


Losing You

by caitydestroyz



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Canon Related, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Plus-Size Reader, Recovered Memories, Repressed Memories, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Harm, Slow Build, Slurs, Surprises, Triggers, Unresolved Sexual Tension, like really slow but it'll be worth it!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-09-03 03:54:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 28
Words: 47,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8695483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caitydestroyz/pseuds/caitydestroyz
Summary: Static. Just static noise. It was deafening. You couldn't hear anything. But there was something out there. Something. Someone. They were yelling. Screaming. It didn't stop. It wouldn't fucking stop. It just kept going. And you felt hands on you. Silence.





	1. How It Begins

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, guys! So, I've been working on this piece for awhile now, and I feel like I'm ready to share it with you all! Mind you, this fic has a special place in my heart, due to the main character, who is dealing with being overweight and the overall issues of body negativity, which is my current struggle. 
> 
> So writing this piece definitely brightened up my day. Also, this work is un-beta'd, so any OOC dialogue/persona, grammatical errors, etc., are all my doing.
> 
> Additionally, each chapter will have little surprises. And anything stated in the first notes will always include any trigger warnings, and will probably be tagged accordingly. Just an FYI!
> 
> Overall, I hope you enjoy this as much as I do!

“What are you scared of?”

“Are you really fucking asking me this - right now?” It must have been well past 2am, and Negan was trying to humor your curiosity by answering.

 

“I mean, it's a valid question. So take it as you like.”

 

The room flitted with silence for a moment. It was almost too quiet that movements could be heard from down the hall, in other rooms aside from Negan's.

 

He turned over to you, his chiseled, grey-furred chest casted into the shadows as it was barely made by the moonlight illuminating the room.

He had this look on his face when he caught your gaze. Half dazed, half lost in thought.

 

You weren't sure what response you were expecting from the man. Whether it be a sarcastic one, or some token of honesty: You really wanted to know.

 

You wore one of the more baggier shirts in your possession, wearing nothing underneath besides a pair of striped boy briefs.

 

It felt like a century had gone by before he spoke. You would've thought he passed out by now. But no, he decided to humor you.

 

“You really wanna fucking know what scares me, princess?” You nodded in turn, awaiting the reply.

 

You laid on your left side, staring at the man who had all the answers for this place. Had all the fucking answers that could make or break what you have here, in this fucked up world. And yet, you still felt like you were nothing to him. And you never told him, nor will you ever tell him. For the sake of your own inner demons, you withstand every ounce of emotional pain you put yourself through just to be with him.

 

If he'll have you.

 

“That you'll wake up one day and realize that you ain't shit, that you'll leave me the moment that fucking happens.” The words stung you. Almost. It was a stunning response, not what you were expecting.

 

He closed the gap that separated the both of you, deciding to hover over your stout stature to get his point across. He caressed your cheek with a gentle hand, a calming mechanism that settled your heart by a small fraction. He leaned down just enough for both your lips to barely graze each other before he continued. Seeing this side of the man almost frightened the holy hell out of you, seeing how he was being so open; so vulnerable. You never meant for that to happen.

 

“It would kill me..knowing you were gone. Because all I wanna fucking do is protect you; fucking make you feel safe. I wanna show the whole goddamn, fucking world you're fucking mine. I want them to see how fucking beautiful you fucking are. I want you to understand that I can't fucking imagine losing you. It would fucking kill me if I ever lost you, sweetheart..” The tears in his eyes were transparent, but you felt them fall onto your cheeks. In this moment, there were no strings attached. Every word he said, he meant it.

 

“I fucking love you, baby doll. I want you to fucking know it. I fucking love you. And I'll do anything to keep you fucking safe. You hear me?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

And that was when you woke up, realizing it was all a dream. Reality finally sunk in, and it fucking sucked.

 

Taking in the popcorn ceiling of your bedroom, the sight of it was rather..grating, to say the least. Off to the side, you could hear snoring in the corner of the room. It was a white noise that still got under your skin.

 

You're one of Negan's many followers when it came for the supply runs. As short as you were, and curvy around the edges, you're always able to keep up. Suffice to say, the sniper rifle at your side had nothing on you. You're the sure shot for someone with shitty eyesight. You think to yourself every goddamn day about how you still managed to retain your prescription glasses without losing those fuckers in the apocalypse. It's still astounding.

 

As for the said rifle, it needed to be cleaned.

 

You had slumped into bed some time last night, skipping dinner to savor your bed and a dreamless sleep. The mattress had seen better days, but there was talk of a compound called Alexandria on the next run. It sounded like a fancy-shmancy sort of community, which meant comfortable beds and possibly more ammo for your weapon.

 

As your thoughts drifted to last night, you were soon distracted when the snoring went an octave louder. You grabbed one of your extra pillows, which was flattened to almost oblivion and flung it square in your roommate's face. The impact was enough to startle the man awake, a groan escaping him.

 

“The fuck, (Y/N)? Jesus....”

“Stop fucking snoring, Drew. You're gonna wake up the entire fucking compound with your noisy ass.” Drew mocked your words before using your pillow to shield his face.

 

The two of you have witnessed the apocalypse from the inception. Hearing about mindless individuals lurking and consuming flesh on the news. That wasn't normal. And as of currently, the norm was a real smack in the face.

 

You got up from your dingy, old mattress that had seen better days, heading over to your closet to grab a fresh pair of clothes, your bathing necessities, and a towel.

 

“Gonna have to get up soon, little brother. One of us is going to have to take the shift for a supply run, and the other working the kitchen.” You left on that note, sauntering down the hall to the female community bathrooms. Incoherent babbling escaping the sleep-deprived man as he waved his hand in your direction in an attempt to silence you, but the door saved him the trouble.

 

It was a rather quiet morning. The sun hadn't risen yet, pitch black with a few hints of purple. You enjoyed these times, however. You were able to get the best water pressure and hot temperature without filing complaints to everyone else sharing it.

 

And man, were you right. Stepping into the stall and pulling back the curtain, the heavy stream and steaming water was enough to elicit a moan of content from your lips.

 

You started off scrubbing yourself down from head to toe, feeling the grimy mixture of dirt and walker guts being washed away. You figured taking a shower this early in the morning would be best since you weren't able to last night. Gave you enough time by yourself, since you hardly had any time to do anything but. The shower gave you justice in itself.

 

Wringing out your face towel, you set it on the railing nearest you before tending to your hair. Before you could manage to uncap the bottle of shampoo in your hand, you were greeted by a sudden appearance by the Leader of the Saviors himself. You didn't notice for a few seconds, due to the bottle being jostled into your basket. He pulled away the curtain, staying a good foot away without getting sprayed. The sound of the curtain was all it took to make you look back in shock. You didn't need your glasses to know who was standing there.

 

Of all times, of all places - it had to be here; at this time. _How lovely._

 

“Mm, mm, mm! My, oh my. What a sight you are, gorgeous. Should really be making my nightly strolls more often, now. Fuck.” His hazel eyes examined your short posture from head to toe. Although the commentary was endearing, you couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious as you tried covering yourself with your dirty clothes.

 

“The fuck, Negan? Seriously!? What are you even doing up this late?”

 

“Oh, you're asking _me_ why _I'm_ up this late? Should be asking you.” He juts a gloved finger your way as he took a few steps back to set himself unto the wooden bench behind him. “Because I needed a shower? Because I smell like shit and felt like shit? What else do you want me to tell you?” You still had a grip on your clothes, which were already soaked through as the water continued beating down on you. The water seemed to run cooler, and you rued the day already.

 

And there was silence, boots shifting and tapping against the tile floor. He took in every part of your body that wasn't covered, swiping his tongue across his teeth as a wolfish grin made its way to his face.

 

“...so, you gonna sit there? ‘Cause this shower is getting cold and I really need to lather up.” You slowly tossed the drenched clothes down, out of the stall as he watched your every move.

 

“Well, lather away. Not gonna stop you. Just wanna talk.” He folded his arms in front of his chest, his eyes never leaving you. Ever since You arrived at the Sanctuary, you were still on the fence about your leader. He carried himself like he carried his army. No stone left unturned, no building left filled with whatever he deemed his community needed. And here, in this moment, you felt exposed; you truly were. At any cost, he took what was his. As far as you can tell, he was feared by many, but appreciated by the latter - the latter being his own people. Though, you wouldn't say appreciated. Respect would've been the proper word.

 

“O-kay? Sure, boss. Whatever you want.” You couldn't help but find it unusual for him to be out this late, but thought to yourself that he owns this place, so he has a right to be roaming about. Even if it's his own right. And the surprising part was that he didn't have Lucille. He probably had a piece on him, you wouldn't be surprised nor would you have blamed him.

 

“So..can I-” You edged for the curtain, only to have the man shake a finger like you were some bad kid that stole from the cookie jar.

 

“Uh, uh, uh. Keep the stall open. Wanna see who I'm talking to.” You wouldn't say you were nervous about this encounter. No, you wouldn't say that. Embarrassed? Yes. Humiliated? Abso-fucking-lutely. Self-conscious? Five stars, all around.

 

Growing up with the issue of being a bit too overweight to just not giving fuck about it and loving yourself, deep down you knew that you hated how you looked and that the amount of fat on your waist wouldn't go away. You shoved that thought to the back of your mind as you made haste to lather your hair up, foam and suds filling out your hair.

 

“What did you wanna talk about?” You asked under the showerhead.

 

Over the steaming shower, you could just barely hear heavy breathing before it ceased. He cleared his throat, leaning forward with his legs spread out and his hands cupped in front of him. He must've been watching you. Again, no surprise there. Probably would blackmail you if he had the chance. He had evidence, if he so much as decided to go down that route.

 

“You're a perfect shot, aren't you, princess? Know how to take a person out without even thinking twice.” The fact he didn't even speak above a whisper rather than usual, boisterous talk was appalling.

 

“You do have a point in this conversation, right? I know you didn't just stumble upon me, just to watch me take a shower.” Your hands were in and out of your hair when the soapy mixture finally willed itself down the drain.

 

You twisted the nozzles in front of you until the showerhead turned off, save for the few drops of water escaping to the floor.

 

When you turned around, Negan was at the entrance of the stall with your towel in hand. It's not like he startled you.

 

Oh, no that wouldn't be right. It's all sugar plums and candy canes with your boss, casually having a conversation with you while you're ass-butt naked. In front of him, in all your glory. In your goddamn fucking birthday suit. _What a way to go._

 

You held an arm across your wet breasts, the other outstretched for the towel.

A toothy grin was all you were given as he spread the towel from end to end, waiting.

 

“What if I did, princess?”

 

You looked between the open towel and then to him. Hesitation didn't become you as you succumbed instantly, thinking you would snag the dry cloth with you. Avoiding the man's grasp was what you were aiming for. Only to be taken into the man's arms so abruptly. He gripped you tight, leaning you up against the shower wall. Struggling in his grip, he held the towel around you like a straitjacket. What kept you from moving any further was his hips that pinned yours down. You were at a disadvantage, and it was quite irritating.

 

“Negan, let go. Let me go! Come on, don't you got wives to fuck? To woo, or whatever you fucking call it.”

He scoffed, noting my words. “Fucking excuse me? I didn't quite get that, sweetheart, wanna fucking repeat that?” He emphasized, leaning forward a mere fraction as he held a hand to his ear to further press his request.

 

“You heard me. I don't see why you're here. What, did you wanna congratulate me for taking out our recent victims? Did you want to tell me we ran out of bullets? What is it, Negan? ‘Cause this sure as hell isn't some courtesy call.”

 

From the glint in his eyes didn't reveal much, but it did show a small inkling of why he was here.

 

You never noticed, but your brother did. He always did.

 

Ever since you shelled out your rifle, you were a part of the Saviors. As you can recollect, you knew your eyesight was worst for wear. But that didn't stop you. Nor did it stop Negan from realizing how interesting you seemed to be.

 

_“What the fuck are you talking about, Drew?”_

_“(Y/N), you heard me. The way he looks at you, it's..it's fucking weird. It's like he..likes you or something. Like, he always watches you.”_

_“Bullshit, Drew. Just stop talking and let me sleep.”_

_“You wanted me to tell you what I saw, so I'm telling you. Just..be careful. We all know how Negan is.”_

_“...yeah.”_

 

 

When Drew spoke of how Negan seemed to fancy you, you thought nothing of it. It was just your boss admiring your work, a simple appreciation for the common work of his people.

 

“You listening to me, princess?”

 

You didn't realize your towel was gone, and the cool surface of his leather jacket pressing up against you. He leaned down to press sinful lips against your ear. You shouldn't have felt so scared, then.

 

You shouldn't have wanted him to kiss you. Touch you. To fuck you like one of his little wives. Being so close to him was like a raging fire burning in your belly, soon permeating your entire body. You shouldn't have felt so needy, so vulnerable.

 

Your entire being isn't worth a second glance. He's just taking pity on you. He thinks he'll get a lousy lay out of you just so he can hold that against you. Remember, he could fucking blackmail you. _Fat-ass fucking whore wore me down, fucking gank her ass._

 

“W-what? I-I didn't hear you.” That brought on a special little nip on your ear as he pressed a knee between your legs to box you in. Not like you could move, anyway. Your entire body was immobile. Frozen in place. You watched the man start to unfold before you, and to your astonishment, he was gentle. The man wasn't, at all, gentle. He made sure of his status, as everyone got down on one knee to acknowledge his presence.

 

“You're really beautiful, you know that?” He repeated, this time he met your gaze when he admitted those words. You felt so unworthy of this confession. He was lying.

 

You shouldn't have felt like crying. You shouldn't have felt like you were going to break down on your fucking knees and start bawling. Because this isn't Negan. This isn't what he's made out to be. He's the firm hand of this place. He says it how it is, and doesn't hold back.

 

But right here, right now - he was fucking lying to himself.

 

You just wished that he could just stop this little charade because this is the first time in two years that you were intimate with someone. Or even close to it.

 

“Hey..are you fucking crying?” He lifted your face up to meet his, the pads of his thumbs wiping away stray tears that trickled down your cheeks. “Why are you fucking crying, sweetheart?”

 

Again, his voice shouldn't have been so sweet. So light and candy sweet. His gruff drawl shouldn't have drawn you in like it did. Like a fly to a trap. A moth to an open flame. It made every part of your body want him. Alas, you had your dignity, or what was left of it. From the salt and pepper beard he sported, to the slicked back, black locks, he was a sure heartbreaker. A silver fox gallivanting in the world's wreckage we call home. Down to the leather jacket and Lucille. Every woman wanted to be with him, and every man wanted to be him. He was the fucking wet fantasy for every man who met him. And yet, here he was. Pinning you up against a shower wall, telling you that you're beautiful.

 

 

 

You wouldn't believe it, even if you tried.


	2. It Has Begun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You begin to remember things you buried at the back of your mind. It's like he's ripping up the first layer of floorboards, being met with a cement block in return. His initial intentions shouldn't bring you that much deeper into yourself. Don't let him. Please.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, y'all!
> 
> Apologies for the late submission for this chapter. I've been on and off editing this shite for the past week and it's been annoying the holy hell outta me. I wanted to make sure this was _good enough_ for y'all, since I had so many ideas I wanted to roll into this. But I'm saving that shit for later, eheheh~ But yo, so I watched the recent episode (7x07) and, bruh, _fan-fucking-tastic_. Like there was so much of daddy that I couldn't keep my shit together lmao
> 
> Anyhow, I'm rambling, sorry! This chapter is hella long, and additional tags are now listed above!
> 
> Also, I'm trigger warning for self-harm, self-loathing, and body negativity/insecurity.
> 
> Nevertheless, please enjoy!

_“Are you happy, sweetheart?”_

_Seated behind you, he leaned back against the tree trunk as he held you close to his clothed chest._

_You never could get used to cold mornings. You settled on wearing one of Drew’s hoodies, a black v-neck, sweatpants, and a pair of old sneakers. You definitely needed a new pair, as one of them had a hole in its sole._

_The skies were clear, dark shades of purple painting the skies as the colours made the perfect gradient of a coming sunrise._

_Moments like these were drenched with love and affection. Savored. It was hard to come by, these days. You cherished every second spent, knowing you couldn't predict the inevitable._

_The sunrise was what kept you afloat. Alive, in a sense._

_He would always bring you to the highest peak that you two could reach, and you'd just sit there with him. You would admire the beauty of what Earth was. Of how beautiful he was._

_Made you realize that there wasn't anything to be scared of. That you can keep surviving, even if only for the moment. That there was more to it than meets the eye. But you knew times like these were too good to be true. Chances ran on a lottery line. Whether you got the chance to survive or not was what you were dealt. The cards can only do so much to play in your favor._

_“Yeah..yeah, I'm really happy.” Your face almost hurt when you smiled, ear to ear. You never hesitated. You never did. You meant it. “What about you? Are you happy?”_

_There was always a silence wherever you were. Sometimes it was a bearable slate, whilst other times, you'd rather break it altogether. But, by this point, you reveled in it. It's like you can hear his heart beating through his chest. You could feel it. That's when you knew you felt safe. That you had a chance to just relax and enjoy the view, without worrying about surviving. It felt so fucking right._

_And by the sensation of his lips by your ear, he felt the same exact way. He rubbed a calloused palm along your stomach affectionately, nuzzling your hair._

_“As long as I have you guys with me, I'm the happiest man alive.”_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

That was _then_. _Then_ couldn't be traded and exchanged for this. Things changed. The world was cruel, and you hated it. Loathed it with all your heart, because the people you loved were taken away by Death, himself. What a shame, really.

But, here you were, affixed to this shower wall. Hair sopping, vision blurry. Even in this close vicinity, you tried turning your face away from the man. Coining luck on avoidance didn't play well on your part. He still maintained a tender grasp on your cheeks as he trained your eyes to his.

“There's no need to be crying now, sweetheart. You know I'm not gonna fucking hurt you, if that's what you're thinking. You know my rules.”

You nodded. You knew his rules. You hear them time, and time again. You heard them being spoken aloud to a group you came across one day. They were a handful of many other policies the man established, and you never questioned them. _Some_ of them, technically.

 

You _answer_ to _me_. You _provide_ for _me._ You _belong_ to _me_.

 

“Look at me, baby look at me.” He tapped your cheeks to get your attention. “Earth to (Y/N).”

You trembled under his hands, your breathing becoming raspy and labored. This gentle giant image he was portraying was unreal. His eyes shouldn't have casted down to you with an edge of compassion. You haven't seen that much emotion in two years. It fucking scared you. It wasn't normal, as far as you can tell.

After awhile, your perception finally refocused. He let one hand drop from your face to slide down your neck. Letting it stroke your shoulder, the entirety of your arm, to the hand on your thigh. Goosebumps covered the surface of your skin at the sensual embrace.

It was like a snake was slithering through the desert sand, caressing the hot surface without giving it a second thought. Instinctive. Natural.

His supple lips returned to the curve of your ear, a breathy chuckle escaping him.

“Now that I got your attention, I want you to listen to me.” You felt his lips curl into a pompous grin, the edge of his teeth nipping against the skin there. “Listen to me, loud and clear. Listen to me _good_.”

You didn't dare make any sudden movements, for this might just be some sort of illusion. You didn't even realize you were holding your breath. Timeless negligence. Exhale, dear.

“You're one of the best shooters I've seen in a long, long time. And to my goddamn surprise, I would've thought you had some military expertise. Don't you think?”

His other hand had already dropped to meet the other at your hips, gyrating his own to form slow friction. His grip was an even pressure. Not enough to draw pain, but a sufficient amount of pleasure to compensate and, clearly, kept you grounded.

_What the hell was he fucking doing? Was he trying to burst your bubble? Burn your bridges? Who the hell does he think he is?_

“Holding that shaft like a fucking pro. I bet those hands can work my shaft real well, baby girl. I do believe so.”

And just like that, a polar switch between such a tender man was left to the clutches of its salacious counterpart. Somehow, your body reacted to this unfurling sensation that was lost and unbeknownst to you. He took in the mere sight of you, bare chested and exposed. There was his predatory gaze. Sensual, with a hint of an insatiable hunger. An incorrigible crave. It shouldn't have compelled your entire body to keen at the intentions.

You wanted to tell him to stop. You wanted to tell him that this wasn't right. That this wasn't a part of his rules and regulations. You remembered hearing - okay, eavesdropping - on a conversation between two of Negan's wives, Sherry and Amber.

 

_You were seated at one of the picnic benches outside, cleaning out the remnants of fouling residue in the bore of one of the rifles you were handed off. It was Simon's, for sure. He rarely used it, but he always liked to use it on poor fuckers that roused trouble when Negan commanded._

_Two tables over, Amber and Sherry were discussing vapid topics. Jarring as the conversation was, you weren't disappointed when you picked up on some points about how Negan treated his wives._

_“You have to know that you can't cheat on him, Amber. You can't. He doesn't take kindly to that at all. You saw what happened to Dwight..” You remembered the scarring on the left side of the man's face. An iron deteriorated his skin, to your dismay. Wasn't a pretty sight at all._

_You watched the both of them intently, diverting your sights for the rifle in hand as you began cleaning the barrel. Sherry had this expression on her face that was unreadable. She seemed remorseful, nevertheless grateful. “When you're his, you're his. End of story,” she continued. “Don't have to work for points like we used to, anymore. He'll come to you when he wants. We all have separate rooms.”_

_“So, if he wants to visit us, then.”_

_“Yeah.” She elicited a sigh before delineating to another similar tangent. “He finds us all the finest negligee and lingerie to model just for him. We can never really talk to anyone else, aside from Negan and the rest of the wives. Some of us just paint our nails and talk to each other. I don't really join in on the gossip the others tend to talk about. One of them boasts a lot about how she nails Negan and gets the best orgasm.”_

_“Oh my god, that's ridiculous. I don't plan on really sleeping with him.”_

_“You're going to have to. If you want to keep your place here, that's what you're going to have to do.”_

  _This information was...concerning. Nothing short of your anticipation of what Negan thought was best for his wives. You were satisfied, to some extent. It didn't seem like he hurt them. You saw the nice clothing the two women wore. Bandage crop tops with lace mini skirts. Dresses ranging from bodycons to simple sundresses. Save for the heels they managed to wear. Along with the pearl necklaces and other nice sets of jewelry. His women definitely deserved nothing but the very best, as it seemed._

_They're trophy wives. That's what they damn well are. Just as long as they waited hand and foot for the man. Hang on his every word. They were aces in his books, that's for fucking sure._

_Additionally, from what you noticed is that Negan always asked the figure perfect girls to be one of his wives. Nice rack, nice ass. Easily meddled with by the man of the hour. If they easily satisfied the man, there wasn't much competition. He enjoyed his women like he enjoyed bashing in someone's head. Fucking savoring every second that roused him._

_That's when you thought to yourself: he never asked you._

_He never thought to ask you to be his wife. You wonder why he never did when you first came to Sanctuary? Well, that fat gut around your waist isn't attracting much else. Your thighs meet as you walk, and that isn't attractive, either. Maybe those were the reasons why he never asked you. Not to mention that, maybe, the extra fat under your chin might throw you off the playing field. Isn't that a goddamn shame, kiddo?_

_It's not like you wanted to be one. Being one of his wives was just an extra step in his fucked up, little world to keep you safe. An added amount of protection. Fucking living the lap of luxury. It would've been worth it, if you really didn't let your pride shine through._

_But you know where your loyalties lie. You don't need a man to protect you. To provide for you. Ever since then, you knew you had to keep on fighting. Keep on fucking surviving. For him. For her. For them._

_The parts of Simon's gun were left astray; forgotten, strewn across the black cloth you laid out onto the table to keep the material organized to your liking. Your brain wracked with your major insecurity, shutting you down instantaneously._

_Unwanted tears pricked your eyes as you tried to gather your bearings, quickly wiping them away with the back of your hand before anyone could see._

_Sure, let your insecurities get the best of you. Let them trample over you like an angry mob. Rampant and dangerous. A monster eating away inside of you. A massacre to the masses buried deep within._

_Nobody fucking gives a damn about you. You can't even imagine why your brother has remained at your side this long. You're worthless. You hoped you realized that. You sought out self-affliction just for that reason._

_At times, you catch yourself from digging deeper into your skin. You knew the places where an excessive amount of blood could be drawn. Just one slice is all it would take. Albeit, you didn't let yourself go that far. Parts of your body were hidden away by gauze and ace bandages found on runs. This is your history. Those are your insecurities. Those are your skeletons in the closet. So much is locked away that you are breaking at the seams. You wouldn't think to unveil the truth. No, the thought of it was too goddamn, fucking precious to disclose._

_That's why you just kept crying. In broad daylight, with everyone coming and going freely. Skies were as blue as could be, with children laughing in the distance. Waterworks were better than open wounds._

_And you swore you saw Negan watching you. Why would he bother? You're a sack of shit, kid. Get over it. You're the entertainment for the afternoon, and he just so happened to have front row tickets to the show. Your back was hunched over the table as your trial and error to stop crying was a failed experiment. You thought nothing of it._

 

 

 

You thought you were going to lose it, right then and there. This overwhelming sensation coursed through you, causing you to overheat from head to toe. It was too hot and the close proximity with the man was making things rather difficult to manage on your own two feet.

“Know how to make a man feel all good...down to the motherfucking co-”

An abrupt throat being cleared was what broke you out of this proximal compulsion Negan had over you. You felt a snarl on the man's lips, looking over to see his right-hand man.

Simon stood by one of the sinks, shifting his weight from one boot to the next. Caught in an awkward encounter he, honestly, didn't expect this. Of all things, of all times - of all _people_.

“Am I interrupting something?” Simon asked. He waved a finger between the two of you to imply his understanding. Of course he would ask a fucking obvious question, which would wield an obvious fucking answer.

Negan rolled his eyes towards the man, jaw flexing in clear irritation.

“Well, what do you fucking think, Captain Obvious?”

From Simon's own experience, any girl who was Negan's was off-limits. And it seemed _you_ were a part of that deal. The mustache-bearing man tried to keep his gaze on his boss, only to drift to your naked form every so often.

“Hey, hey. Eyes up here, Simon.” Negan snapped his fingers towards his right-hand man, the said man looking up to him without much as a blink of an eye. There was a hint of possessiveness in the leader's voice. Hostility, even. Sent a thrill down your spine. And the bumptious man holding you caught wind of it, too.

Negan knew he wasn't going get much out of the other man with you still bare and damp, so he grabbed the towel he set on the railing beside you and began drying you off. He took this time to prod Simon's unconventional timing. “The fuck do you want, Simon? I was fucking in the middle of something before you barged right on in here.”

The aggravating reply shook Simon of his thoughts as he uttered, “Sorry, boss. I, uh, just wanted to let you know there's a new group one of the guys found by the beach. Bunch of ‘em. Wanted to know how you wanted to proceed.”

From wringing your hair to patting down every other part of your body, he finally set the towel around you to cover you from your chest to the backs of your thighs. He wasn't all that thrilled about this newfound information. Not that the arousal in his pants had anything say about it. It was clear that a sense of irritation filled the entire man up to the brim, leveling with the heat down below.

You tried to slip away from the two men, in an attempt to make yourself scarce. To keep a distance enough that wouldn't embarrass you in someway or other. Another plan flushed down the drain.

“Does this look like I wanna fucking proceed at this fucking time, Simon?” He growled. He saw you in his peripherals, immediately catching you before you could so much as step foot out of the stall, bringing you back against him. He didn't digress from his speech, nor did he plan to. “Seriously, man. Cut me some goddamn slack. It's, what, ass-crack of fucking dawn and I haven't even had a morning fuck? This couldn't have waited for another few hours.” Negan drew himself out like a drag of a favorite cigar. He always wanted to prove his point to anyone by emphasizing every little tidbit he found necessary.

More or less, he talked out of his ass. You would fail to mention that, if your life depended on it. To think it would be a one-way ticket to Lucille. No thank you.

 

Simon shrugged. “Not my fault, boss. Vinny nagged me about it. Wouldn't keep his damn mouth shut until I told you. So, here I am.” He further demonstrated his comment by spreading his arms out.

Negan quirked an eyebrow, scoffing lightly.

“He is his mother's son…” A chortle rumbled in his chest, shaking his head.

You had forgotten the man even had a son; a child of his own, no less. His son was around your age, maybe a few years older. You worked with him on a run before. He was an excellent shot, up until he ended up _getting_ shot himself. Gunned down by a lowly group that enjoyed human flesh as much as the dead did. And did Vinny get an earful when he got carried into Carson's practice. One foot over the threshold, and Negan went off. Vinny didn't hear the end of it, and 'till this day, he would be reminded of his idiocy by his own father.

 

It took a few moments before he let you go. In that time, you quickly grabbed your basket, along with your face towel and dirty clothes. You finally slipped away to the sinks, the ones that weren't so close to Simon. It was awkward enough being near one of your bosses. Both seemed to be the limit, and an acceptable - avoidable - happenstance.

“Where's my boy, then? Gonna need to tell the lil’ fucker that he fucking cockblocked me. Needs to fucking understand that I can't always fucking hear his ass out, especially when I got a woman to screw,” Negan inquired, swaggering towards Simon as the location for his only child was disclosed.

You guffawed at the commentary, thinking to yourself that he thought he was going to get something out of you. Let alone, fucking degrade you.

He sure as hell wasn't going to get jackshit.

 

By some  means, you knew you felt eyes on you, so you decided to dress up first. Better late than never.

To be quite honest, you were grateful Negan didn't seem to notice the scars left on your wrists, scaling down to a good portion of your inner forearm. Thankfully, they weren't fresh ones. Be that as it may, they were scrubbed raw, so you were going to have apply rubbing alcohol and coat a thin layer of ointment to prevent any infection when you retreated to your room. Before you was a foggy mirror, water droplets trickling down from the top edge. You used the side of your arm to wipe away the exposure, revealing your portly form. Your eyes were rimmed red and there were bags that soon followed underneath. Surely, sleep was a luxury, rather than a necessity. Within the past week, you managed to get only three or four hours worth - if you were lucky.

Looping your arms into the straps of your red and black polka-dot bra, slipping on a baggy sweater. The scars were hidden. At least, for the moment. You caught yourself from dragging a shaky palm down those wounds, slipping on a pair of black, high-waisted jeans to shake that feeling. You didn't even bother bringing a hairbrush, but your dental needs were sufficient to avoid much contact with the men not too far from you.

Gracious for the current situation, you left your shoes and socks in your room, so it saved you the time to just escape this area. Steering clear of the two men after an incriminating confrontation was much appreciated. Your bare feet carried you to the open exit, two sets of eyes following you. You held your head low, diverting your gaze to the cool, tile floor below you. You needed to get away. The feeling of being ever so exposed was fucking unnerving, and you weren't sure you could handle anymore, tonight.

"(Y/N)!"

_Don't look back, kid. Come on. Don't give him the fucking satisfaction._

And yet, you couldn't resist. He was like some contagious plague that never ceased to exist, polluting the very air you breathed. You stilled in your footing, just barely looking over your shoulder to acknowledge him. "What, Negan?"

A smirk splayed on the man's features, nodding off to you. "I'll see you in a lil' bit."

You gave a stiff nod before diverting your awareness to the exit, taking long strides away from facility.

As you left, Negan couldn't help but watch you leave. Simon looked between your exit and his boss, brows furrowing in perplexity.

"You got a thing for her, boss?" Simon couldn't refrain from the evident tension in the air.

The question stirred the leader from his focus, his smirk remaining on his face. However, it seemed to falter when all of his thoughts came together. "Huh.." He was at a loss for words, for once in a long time.

Simon set a hand on Negan's shoulder, patting the spot under his palm. It's as if he was trying to comfort the man, even though it didn't do him much good.  "Well, boss. She's legal, if you're interested."

Negan eyed his wing man, chuckling lightly.

"Good to know, man good to know." His notions persisted, knowing there will come a time when him and yourself will finally be alone, and he'll finally make his move. He let you off easy, internally battling with himself when you were finally under his grasp.

 

He's waited. Days. Weeks.  _Months._ He's wanted to make a move on you the moment you stepped foot in this place. But you always managed to avoid him. Yeah, you went on daily supply runs, but he always watched you. Watched you handle a rifle that was three quarters your size. Turned him on even more when you killed someone up close, and it drove him onto the brink of insanity, knowing you had a history worth digging deeper into. In retrospect, he wouldn't dare reveal his true intentions when amongst his people. Nonetheless, he'll find a way to get closer to you. To lure you in and swallow you whole.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Once inside your room, you made sure to lock the door behind you once it was shut. Waking up this late in the evening was a mistake. A goddamn, motherfucking mistake. You set your basket onto the floor rather than on your dresser, preventing any of the water left from your shower to get onto any of your belongings.

Drew remained dead as a doornail. However, his snores filtered the room. It brought you back to reality. You slumped onto your mattress, sheets spread across at different spots as your lone pillow was propped up against the brick wall. You looked up to the popcorn ceiling, sifting through your feelings and emotions.

Confronting Negan in the shower stall was surreal, and shouldn't have caused your entire being to yearn for a release. Like you said, he's a handsome guy. His persona piques your very interests, and it damn well scares the shit out of you. You've always had a thing for older men. And, as it seems, Negan is different. He's not like  _him._ No, he's not like him. Negan is so much more jubilant. Parading himself with such confidence and masculinity, it was a demeaning presentation.

 

You need to stop thinking for right now. You need to fucking stop before you go in too deep that you'll fucking lose yourself in this raging whirlpool. Negan's dragged you into this dangerous territory. These rising waters, as it begins to envelop you until you can't fucking breathe. It'a happening too fast for you to realize it. Grip the reins, man. Don't succumb to his mind games, kid. You're gonna fucking lose yourself, and you may not come back.

 

You just closed your eyes and hoped that today will be something else. Something _different_. Something that shouldn't astonish you, anymore.

 

 

 

 

_I'm sorry._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My, oh my. Surprise, surprise! 
> 
> What's going on here? Slow ascensions are excruciating, aren't they? But I hoped you liked it! As per usual, stay tuned! ;]
> 
>  
> 
> (you can find me [here](http://caitydestroyz.tumblr.com/) ❤)


	3. Start From Scratch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's start off fresh, kid. Make sure you have your glasses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, babes!
> 
> Another chapter, another little tidbit! As always, enjoy, my loves!

 

_Gun shots resonating against the warehouse walls, bodies dropping like flies. Out of the frying pan, and into the fire. It was too much at one time._

  
_Static. Just static noise. It was deafening. You couldn't hear anything. But there was something out there. Something. Someone. They were yelling. Screaming._

  
_“Run! Fucking run! Get the fuck outta here, (Y/N)!”_

  
_It didn't stop. It wouldn't fucking stop. It just kept going. And you felt hands on you. Silence._

  
_“I love you, (Y/N). Always and forever.”_

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Ahh, what a lovely betrayal. The light switch flicked on to reveal the harsh light and a blurry figure hovering above you. The familiar headful of brown hair and an indulgent expression met your hazy attention.

  
“Mmm..” You groaned lightly, rubbing at the morning stars crusting your eyes. “Seriously, Drew? It’s too fucking early..”

  
“(Y/N), it’s,” he paused to check his digital watch on his wrist, looking back to you. “8:30am. Negan wants us out in the main hall in 15 minutes.” He moved away from the side of your bed, scanning your bedside for something you really need this morning. “Um..(Y/N), where’s your glasses?”

  
Running a hand through your now dry hair, you pushed away some of the strands from your face to take in the blurry surroundings.

  
“(Y/N).”

  
“What?” You looked over to the young teen, down on one knee as he glanced over his shoulder to stare at you. “I don’t know where they are.”

“Are you serious? You took a shower like, what, three hours ago?”

  
You threw your hands up in exasperation, shrugging in turn. What were you going to tell him? That Negan ganged up on you in the shower, being all Flirty Freddy and getting handsy with you? Knowing Drew, you know he wouldn’t let you live it down.

  
“I don’t know where they are! Must’ve left them in the bathroom or something.” You turned to the side, your legs and the heels of your feet touching the floor since the mattress was set on top of a woven carpet. “Pass me some socks, please.”

  
Drew shook his head, opening your side drawer and rummaged through the surface until he plucked a pair out. Even if they were mismatched, you never really cared these days. “Dude, if you lost them, it’s gonna be a helluva lot harder to survive.” He held the pair out to you, as you snatched them out of his hands.

  
“Don’t you think I know that? Besides, someone will find them and turn them in.”

  
“Sure. People are trustworthy here. It’s not like they’ll toss your glasses into the trash, like a normal human being would.” The sarcasm was irking you to the highest extent. It was too fucking early for Drew’s smartass responses.

  
You slipped on the pair onto your cold feet. One was neon pink, the other black with teal polka-dots. Yeah, there weren’t any fucks to give. “Fucking asshole. Shut up,” you uttered. You shoved his face away before reaching around your drawer to grab your pair of hightops, slinking into the footwear and strapping the tops up.

  
You turned to your side so you could stand up, reaching out a hand for your younger brother. He leveraged himself with your hand, teetering a bit once he was on his feet. He took after your uncle, seemingly sprouting much more than your old man. He practically _towered_ over you.

  
“Wonder what his plans are for today. It seemed urgent, from what Simon said,” he said, shrugging on his green denim jacket. You wouldn’t wholly confess to what the intel was, so you played the silent card. You dismissed the comment made as you followed him out the door, swiping your bedroom keys before you could forget.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
When the two of you arrived at the main hall, which was basically the machinery containment area, residents from all parts of the expansive warehouse file in, filling in the gaps. There were fences that surrounded the center of the room, where the smoldering furnace housed the iron that Negan utilized against any wrongdoers that crossed him.

  
You had forgotten how many people had joined Negan’s community within the past few months. The growing number was disconcerting, in spite of the fact that everyone pulls their weight where they need to. The point system applied to all of you. Negan’s wives aside, it was all of you, folks, who needed to earn your way.

  
Simon stood at the top of the catwalk above, leaning against the railing as he waited for your boss to deliver his introductions for the day.

  
It wasn’t long after until Negan finally arrived, strolling down the west wing walkway with a complacent smirk that matched his footing. Lucille was cradled against his right shoulder, his grip on her shaft loose yet secure. The natter that circulated the enclosed room dissipated when your leader came into view.

  
You and your brother stood by the kitchen entrance, whilst everyone else kneeled unto the cement flooring. See, Negan may be the Lord and Savior of this godforsaken place, but you’ll be damned if you had to get down on your knees to respect him. He earned enough respect from you when he allowed you the privileges to scavenge on your own. With Drew, no less.

  
Simon moved to the side, allowing Negan to stand at the center platform. Your fearless chief handed off his favored weapon to his equal. His eyes scanned the full occupancy, a pleased simper on his person. His perception soon landed on you, his smirk widening tenfold.

  
“Morning, everyone. Gathered you all here today to discuss some things.” Everybody hung on his words, silent in their motives to keep kneeling. The man looked around, brows creasing as the informant for this newfound information was nowhere to be seen. “Simon,” he gritted out, waving him over. The said man took a step closer, cocking his head to the side. “Yeah, boss?” “Where the fuck is Vinny? Should be up here with me.” Simon’s shoulders went up and dropped, unsure of Vinny’s current whereabouts. It didn’t help Negan in the slightest.

  
“Know what? Fuck it.” He looked back to us, his features tense and irritated. “So, there’s this group near the beach. It’s a little whiles-away, so we’ll probably be back by the end of this week. Don’t wait up for us.” Heads bobbed in reciprocation. “Let’s see how long they fucking last, huh?” The tension in the air soon dissolved, allowing the man to return to his pompous demeanor. That devilish smile returned, a coordinating gleam in his eye as well. “At ease.”

  
And the room soon dispersed of individuals, leaving you and Drew to talk amongst yourselves.

  
“Did you wanna go?” Drew asked.

  
“I don’t know, not really.” You were just saying that so you could accept the chances of keeping a distance between Negan and yourself. “I feel like helping out the kitchen crew for the day.”

  
“Aww, won’t get to see your gorgeous ass in action, darling.” The sudden interjection shouldn’t have made you flush a shade of red, drawing your brother’s attention to the older man. A curious hand groped your clothed ass. You didn't challenge your prompt reaction when you smacked his hand a way.  _The fucking nerve of this asshat._ "Hey, keep your hands to yourself!"

"Ooh, feisty." You were greeted with a set of pearly white teeth, an amused chortle rumbling in his chest.

  
“Negan.” Your brother set the pleasantries aside when addressing the man. His fists clenched at his sides, every ounce of him _yearning_ to upper hook the fucker. _What a fucking gentleman._  Negan always took what he wanted and was careless of the end result, only if it appeased himself and satisfied his very ego.  However, the adolescent took note of the interaction and realized there was more to the fucker fondling you right before his eyes.

  
“Drew, good to see you, kid.” Negan patted his shoulder, grinning. “Oh, sweetheart,” he added, fishing out - low and behold - your glasses. “You left this in the stall last night. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a great shot, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t keep it that way.” Glasses in a gloved hand, he waited for you to take them.

  
Now this really iced the topping of this cake for Drew. Eyes drifting from you to Negan, a whispered _thanks_ dripped from your lips as you put them on. You didn’t seem to notice when Negan watched you. There was a ravenous regard in your leader’s eyes, staring you down like a prey to a predator. Drew, undoubtedly, saw the intentions. He wouldn’t concede the distinguishing atmosphere that seemed to trail after the Head of Sanctuary.

  
“So, Drew!” The two male figures came face-to-face, the man’s hands on the said man’s shoulders. Negan coined in the effort to change the subject, which was a relief. “You going on this trip to the beach? Might do you some good.”

  
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m all for it. I’ll just need to, uh, pack some of my stuff before I go.”

  
“Good, good. And what about you?” You looked up to meet his tawny gaze. “You going?”

  
“Nah. I’m on kitchen-duty, today. So, it’s gonna be a chill day.” You had other plans, but your answer would suffice.

  
He hummed in reply, dropping his hands at his side. Lucille was nowhere in sight, and it was concerning.

  
“Alright. Well, I’ll leave you two to do your jobs. Have fun.” We didn’t have to be told twice, heading out into the dining hall so we could cross over to the main entrance. You chose to ignore much else after speaking with the man. Two times in one day, the incriminating circumstances were best left alone.

  
Drew dared to look back, and he was right. Confirming his notions.

 

  
Negan _was_ watching you. Drew wasn’t sure whether to believe it or not, even with the supply runs the pair of you attended. Negan was a combination of ten pounds of shit in a five pound bag, and a sadistic, degrading bastard that certainly got on his nerves. The teenager was determined to keep this to himself until he got back from this _meeting_.

  
“You better bring me back something good. Seashells or some shit.” You decided to make small talk, stopping at the door frame of the other kitchen entrance. Ignorance was bliss, but your inner comscience thought otherwise.

  
“Huh?” He stumbled for a moment, nodding soon after. “Oh yeah, yeah. I’ll bring you back some sand dollars, if I find any.”

 

  
For now, he’d wait.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boop!
> 
> This one was a short chapter, but I'm leading up to something y'all might enjoy! As always, stay stuned and stay gold!


	4. Off You Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you keep snooping around, you might find something. And when you do, you might just bring it home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'ello, loves!
> 
> Here's another chapter, for your leisure. Nothing to disclose, aside from this being one of the only fics I've actually been updating, frequently.
> 
> Other than that, please enjoy!

_“Drew, just put the damn thing on! It'll cheer her up.”_

 

_“Makes me look like a goddamn idiot with this shit on...”_

 

_The joyous laughter and teasing utterances. Never did life let go of atrocities that pilfered through the grace periods. They were handed to you all like rewards._

 

_These moments were taken for granted. It hit you like an oncoming freight train. The pain shouldn’t have been so unbearable._

 

* * *

 

Drew was already packing his bag up by the time you came back with two containers of food and juice boxes. All thanks to the kitchen crew, you were able to take the food out to your room without any repercussions.

 

Your brother ended up only packing a few things when you waved the delectable smell of spicy delicacies in front of his face, taking it from your hands as he began spooning the meal into his mouth.

 

“You're welcome.” Laced with sarcasm, you flicked him behind the ear before popping the enclosed seal of the apple juice box. Sliding the straw into the hole, you set it on his dresser.

 

A garbled _thank you_ came from his full mouth, soon returning to the food in hand.

 

You took yours to your bed, settling comfortably to consume the Sanctuary’s supposed _breakfast sampler._  Consisting of powdered eggs, beef jerky pieces to substitute for sausage and bacon, and diced green bell peppers, to top it off - it was as close to a home cooked meal you were going to get.

 

Once again, there was an absence of sound that proved itself a worthy opponent. Comfortable. Homely. Normal.

 

Drew spoke up after a few more bites, wiping away remnants of cooking oil from his lips. “You gonna be okay while I'm gone?” He only asked since Negan had his sights for you. The man himself was an unforeseeable fuckhead, and leaving you in the hands of that reckless prick wasn't boding well for Drew’s thoughts.

 

“Of course. I can take care of myself. It's _just_ kitchen duty. What is the worst thing that could happen? I cut my finger off?”

 

“Not funny. I don't feel like having to stitch that shit back on.” He shoveled a few more spoonfuls until the clattering of the plastic spoon could be heard in its receptacle. The sudden slurping from Drew’s juice box brought back a feeling of nostalgia, since the two of you lived off that stuff before shit went to hell.

 

 

Soon enough, you were escorting your brother to the gates, where pick-up trucks and other large vehicles were parked.

 

Growing accustomed to the extreme assertiveness of Arat, everyone was in their appointed transport before she could utter another command.

 

Drew took in the final people boarding, turning on his heel to embrace you with open arms.

 

“Better come back to me in one piece, baby brother.” It wasn't a request. Not by your standards. He was sixteen years old, for fucks sake. He’s just a _kid_. He shouldn't be putting himself in danger. But you wouldn't say shit. You knew that everyone had to be a centinel, here. Everyone had a job to uphold. Even if Drew was just, as stated, a kid - it was hard to comprehend what harm your brother has to go through now. And he has a mind of his own, so there wasn't, in any way, a possibility to change his views on how to handle present day misfortunes.

 

“Don't I, always?” The air of humor never ceases to sooth your nerves, tightening your hold on him.

 

Your voice dropped a few decibels, almost to a mere whisper. “Be careful, alright?..I love you, man.”

 

Drew heaved out an uneasy breath, nodding against your shoulder. He pulled back just a hair before pressing a soft kiss to your temples. “I know...I'll see you soon. Promise.” You nodded in reply, which brought a comforting smile to his face.

 

One more pressing grasp before your kid brother was off to the races. You stood at the foot of the metal stairway that led to the dormitories, watching the supply trucks flee from the compound.

 

 _He can handle himself. He has before._ _He's safe._

 

You kept the optimistic perspective, since it was going to be a _very_ long week.

 

To your surprise, Negan didn't join the travelers to the beachside. Instead, he rounded up a few of his favorites and took a trip to Alexandria. That's as far as one of the kitchen crew members, Margaux, had mentioned.

 

From what you could tell, the majority of his men weren't within the compound. Which meant there was a likely chance for you to head out on your own to scavenge.

 

It's not like you were prohibited to do so. You brought back a good amount of supplies, from non-perishables that had expiration dates a good year or two apart from now, to weapons and other miscellaneous crap. You were true to your word when you requested to take times - like today - to do just that. To _scavenge_.

 

You grabbed one of your larger bags for the excursion. You made sure to grab two bottles of water, two sandwiches, and bag of stale pretzels no one seemed to want. Food was food. And, at this time, you savored what was left. You don't know when your next meal was gonna be.

 

The last place you headed to was the armory. Included in the facility was another furnace used specifically for making bullets and other weapons. When you and your brother first joined the Saviors, no one expected you two to be expert marksmen. Sure, you could handle a gun. You knew where to shoot, to make it hurt and make it memorable. Yet, you guys knew more than you were letting on. And that's how you found yourselves in the haven, majority of the time. If the two of you weren't foraging for provisions or preparing meals, you were right in there.

 

You walked passed several trainees learning how to shoot, receiving humble greetings and the latter.

 

You sent them an acknowledging smile their way, soon removing the lock from your locker. Checking to make sure the gun was disengaged, you pulled the sling over you so it was readily accessible for your hands to get to.

 

In no time flat, you were off in an old hooptie with an extra piece and his knife. You never left anywhere without it.

 

 

It was about an hour or so when you arrived in a ghost town. You don't remember passing through here with Drew, as far as the town name wasn't ringing any bells. No doubt, the dead roamed the streets. There wasn't a lot of them, so you could pick them off rather easily.

 

You pulled off to the side, where a couple of uprooted tree trunks had blocked off the train tracks. You chose that spot to hide the car, just in case some deviant decided to get risky and steal it. You cascaded the car with branches and moss, which definitely would throw people off and think it wasn't of much use. Satisfied with the discreet display, you strolled into town.

 

You chose to find a fire escape, just to get to higher ground and get a better look at the area. An aerial view of the town was better than someone getting the drop on you.

 

You found one that wasn't surrounded by walkers, climbing up to the top. Your feet were glued to the roof when you got there. You set your bag and rifle next to each other, subsequently grabbing your binoculars. You looked through them, enhancing the vision as you started picking off each rooftop, deeming them safe of any denizens nearby. Then you feasted your eyes to ground, only seeing the walking dead. That was when you took the time to root through every building, by foot.

 

And by the time you broke a sweat, you took a gander at your watch and realized it was lunch time. Within the time you were nosing about, you managed to snag several cans of peaches, beans, and other shit. Found a few guns, some of larger capacity and distance-wielding, whilst others were more confrontational. You thought to yourself that it was time to take a load off, finding a vacant house, searched through and through, to relax for a bit. Unwrapping the sandwich from its paper towel and plastic bag, you took your first bite and relished at the taste.

 

To bide your time, you wandered about the large house. It was so much bigger than your old apartment, that's for damn sure. Had an open kitchen with marble top from end to end. There were several different kitchen appliances you never thought you’d see again. Stainless steel pots, copper, non-stick pans, the whole nine yards. You would definitely need to bring this up to the kitchen crew when you got back.

 

Ascending the rosewood staircase, you noted the framed pictures of a family. A father, a mother, their four children, and the family pet. It looked like they had the apple life. White picket fence and all that pipe dream bullshit. Their car was still in the driveway, and some of their belongings collected dust. You were guessing they left in a rush.

 

You were reminded of the time you and Drew had to get the hell outta dodge. It was nerve-wrecking. Everyone was shitting their pants, wracked with fear and anxiety. No one knew what was going on. At least, none of the normal individuals would have bothered to listen. It was all scientific talk, and there wasn't much else to riddle from it. The shit was fucking cryptic, and trying to decipher that shit was harder than it looked.

 

With your thoughts overlapping your current objective, you didn't realize you got to the top of the stairs and saw someone lying on their side. You swallowed the bite you took, slowly approaching the person. They looked fresh, as far as you can tell. The dark complexion of their skin could be seen with the light leaking out from the shutters a good foot away from you. You pulled out your handgun, an old Smith & Wesson revolver he let you have. It still smelled like him.

 

You pulled the hammer on the gun, lowering yourself to one knee as you examined the individual. She was young. Probably in her thirties, maybe. She looked at peace with herself. Was that how it looked? Is that how peace was portrayed on a dead woman's face? You hoped to find out, someday. For now, you realized there was blood caked on the side of her temples.

 

She shot herself. She took the easy way out. If only it was that _easy_.

 

When you prodded the gun to see whether she was bitten or not, the junction where her neck met her shoulder said it all.

 

“Fuck, man...rip in peace, sis.” Patting her shoulder like a send off, you stood up. Noting the blood that spattered against the white door, there was blood on the handle, furthermore.

 

Gnawing on your bottom lip in contemplation, you set your sandwich on the hallway table nearest you, prior to opening the door. However, the door didn’t seem to be budge. You looked down to the woman, lying lifeless on the floor. “You hiding something in here..” You said this to yourself more than to the empty space around you.

 

Tools of the trade, you knew your pick-locking skills would come in handy. You never had to use them, but the tips surely played well in your favor.

 

It took a few tries, nevertheless you were able to get the door open. You peered into the room from the crack in the door, slowly toeing it open whilst keeping your gun at the ready. Your expectations for what was hidden behind the closed door had dwindled down some. Though, you weren’t disappointed at what you found.

 

The ride home was at your leisure, and you arrived by sundown. You held up your share of whatever you found to the guards watching the frontlines, retreating to the armory to drop it off. There was an unspoken trust amongst Negan’s men and yourself. You never dared to inquire.

 

Anyone in the armory took care of what you laid out on the table. You then ventured to the kitchen. Negan wasn’t back, from what the staff said when you entered. An amble stroll to Margaux was all it took, a warm smile slithering on her lips.

 

“Hey there, sugar. How you doin’? Back already?” A sweetheart, Margaux was. How she ended up in Sanctuary still baffles you ‘till this day. Her kind nature was a sentiment in this dark place, which definitely livened the nicer crowd, here. Her persona definitely didn’t match up to the Sanctuary’s own citizens, and yet, Negan loved her and kept her. You couldn’t blame him, even if you could. There needed to be a maternal figure in this fucked up community. And just so happens to be one. She was stirring up batter for cornbread, or what it would’ve been.

 

“Yeah. Was able to get some stuff for here. Gonna put it in the pantry. Mind helping me?” You were being inconspicuous about what you were carrying in your bag, and Margaux didn’t seem notice. Not yet, for that matter. She followed you into stock room, setting her bowl aside for a few. You began taking out the last of what you found and set it on the small table inside. Like everyone else in the kitchen, when it came to a shortage of supplies, there wasn’t any specific amount of gratitude the staff could show for being given ingredients to use for meals to come. Margaux, ultimately, hugged you to show her deep appreciation for what you brought back. She smelled like old rose petals and lavender. The scent smelled just like her.

 

“Aww, baby! This is absolutely great! God bless you, sweetheart.” You snaked your arms around her, mirroring her affections before realizing the real reason you brought her back here. You dropped your arms to your side once she let you go. You slowly lifted the sack you still had on your person, moving aside the cans and packets of seeds to set it down. It was a bit heavier than cans, boxes, and packets combined.

 

  
“Mama Gaux, can you..can you do me a favor?”

 

“Sure, sugar. What you need?” She seemed genuinely concerned, and that definitely took a weight of your shoulders.

 

“I found this.” You slowly pulled the drawstring from the bag, opening it to reveal the secret you carried all the way back here. She looked into the bag, shocked. She cupped a hand over her mouth, reeling in the current situation.

 

  
“Could you..could you take care of it for me? Please?”

 

 

And you couldn’t thank her enough when she didn't hesitate to say yes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first of all -
> 
> What the actual _fuck_ is in that bag?
> 
> Anyway, I'm already prepping for the next chapter. As always, stay tuned and stay gold! ;]


	5. You Found Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't be scared, love. There are better things out there for you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> greetings, errone!
> 
> Here is another chapter for y'all. Again, please enjoy!

_“You and I were in a dream, you’d follow close wherever I’d lead...the steps you’d echo on and on..you’d catch me safe, if I ever I fall..”_

_Blood soaked your very fingertips. His breathing became almost distant. His heartbeats became more drawn out, like they were minutes apart from each other._

 

_“Farewell, my angel..you’re with me always..just close your eyes, now..next time we meet it’s..it’s..”_

 

_They watched you from afar, knowing goddamn well that you were fucking breaking. Fucking broken, for fucks sake._

 

 _He was_ **_gone_** _. He was fucking_ **_gone_** _, and nothing could bring him back. Nothing could bring them back. And that's why you chose to do the right thing, rather than hiding away in your precious, little shell. They shouldn’t suffer. Nor should you._

 

* * *

 

Surprisingly, the week flew by before you knew it. That meant Drew and everyone else was coming back from Beachside. It was about 9:30 or 10pm, as of right now. It was dark, by what the skylight was telling you. The entire time, you locked yourself away in the armory. You were cleaning out the barrels of the guns you found, to checking the bullet cartridges and casings. Getting a layout for making the bullets was your main focus.

 

Fortunately, you were impeded by gloved hands over your glasses.

 

Laughter bubbled in your chest, trying to shake away the hands blocking your perception. “Doth my eyes deceive me? Tis it my brother cometh home, delivering purchase of righteousness and vigilance?”

 

The silence that followed was soon obstructed by both hands dropping from your face. “Okay, Shakespeare. Chill the fuck out.” There wasn’t any hard feelings in your brother’s voice. A penchant of wholehearted humor. He began removing his gloves, soon being encased in a bracing hug by you.

 

“I’m glad you’re back, Drew,” you said into his chest, burying your face into that spot. The two of you were all you had, and you were grateful for everyday that you guys had with each other. You hoped it would last as long as it could, for the years to come. You would keep counting those days off until the bucket was kicked for you. By you, if anything.

 

You two updated one another on what you brought back, what you did, what you found. All in the span of this one week, of course. The two of you seemed to be successful, this time around.

 

“Come on, let’s get a meal in you.” You tugged on his arm, compelling him to follow you to the mess hall. Footsteps echoed against the unoccupied hallway, soon reverberating into the mess hall.

 

“I don’t think the kitchen’s open, (Y/N).”

 

“Pfft, that’s not gonna stop me from seeing if we have any leftovers.” A few more steps in, and you were inside the kitchen. You went for the fridge, hoping to find a container or even some other stuff resembling a meal. “Hmm..” You lifted the container, taking a whiff of the cold food.

 

“Doesn’t smell bad..Okay.” From what it looked like, it was a stew Sanctuary feeded on a few days ago. You hope it tastes as good as it looks. You threw it in the nuker for three solid minutes, poking your head out over the closed buffet line to see where your brother was.

 

Drew sat at one of the closest tables near the kitchen entrance, yawning into an open palm.

 

A lot has happened in a week. More or less, it's been a week since _you_ left and came back, on the same day, with _something._ And that _something_ was being taken care of.

 

Drew was engorging himself on the hearty meal, talking about how he only managed to steal a few bites of fish before getting his ass handed to him. The bruising on the left side of his face was clear as day, and anger pooled in your stomach just by the image.

 

“Who the _fuck_ did it?” You were always protective of Drew, even if he was a good portion larger than you. He was _still_ your little brother. “You better fucking tell me.”

 

“I’m not gonna say shit, ‘cause I _know_ you. You’re gonna blow a fuse. We all know how you get when someone says shit or does shit that involves you. And me.” He eyed you for a second, waiting for a response. You glared daggers his way, knowing he floored it.

 

“..it’s not like I’m gonna start shit,” you grumbled, folding your arms in front of you like a damn child. “Fucking assholes need to keep their hands to themselves, if they know what’s good for them.” _Yeah, and letting Negan feel you up was an exception. Look at the pot calling the kettle black._

 

“Sure, (Y/N) sure. Because we really need a reason to have people up our asses.”

 

The sound of the furnace rumbling behind the mess hall walls was the current white noise, delivering a comfortable atmosphere. However, it was interrupted by small, padding feet trekking the vestibule.

 

Drew’s ears perked up, turning in the direction of the sound.

 

You sat up straight, following your brother’s eyes.

 

And it shouldn’t have come as astounding to you, but it did _._

 

Small hands rubbed away the sleep covering her eyes. Her poofy pigtails stood out from her small head, sock-footed feet carrying themselves to you both. Her dark complexion matched her mother’s, when you saw her that day. The fact that she found you tonight, and even remembered your voice, was what scared you. Just looking at her, she reminded you so much of them. Drew would soon have similar thoughts on this encounter. Matter of fact, it didn’t take him long.

 

Drew finished up his meal before the two - three - of you returned to your room.

 

Your brother couldn’t bother to question how you found her, succumbing to sleep in a matter of seconds once he hit the mattress. There would be questions directed towards you in the morning, and you wouldn't deny your brother the satisfaction.

 

From what you could gather, she was around two or three. Head to toe, she was an adorable little tot. And she seemed to take a strong liking to you. Curious brown eyes met yours, followed by those small hands that reached out to play with your hair.

 

“You shouldn't have left Mama Gaux, baby. She's supposed to be watching you.” You set the youth atop of your bed, hurrying over to your dresser to grab some clothes. At her age, curiosity kills the cat. There wasn’t any child gates or crib to keep her from hurting herself, so you ended up shedding your outside attire in record time, tossing them into the hamper near the door. Slipping on an old tie-dye shirt and sleeper shorts, all the while watching her, you put your hair up in a high ponytail before taking her back into your arms once you were on the bed.

 

Again, you were prompted by how young she was, a highlighted fragment in your memory. Alas, you almost felt whole. Being hallowed away and carved to accommodate the excruciating memories that you carried with you every single day. Scary, isn’t it? She resembled the innocence that was lost. _The love._

 

In other news, it was only yourself, Drew, and Margaux who knew of this child’s existence, here.

 

As for Negan, he couldn’t know about this. You couldn’t even to tell him that there was an extra mouth to feed when you came back that day. Margaux didn’t say anything. Hasn’t even let the small girl roam around - let alone, on her own. With the concern of children, in general, they came as rare occurrences. Negan would bring back kids from terrible twos to as late as eighteen years old. As long as the child was being watched, or being trained to start earning points, they were in Negan’s good graces. Or, so you'd like to think. The man was inexorable. One would have a 50/50 chance at appeasing him, without any backlash - if they were lucky. Nevertheless, you wouldn’t know how he'd fucking react.

 

Hell, it’s been a damn week since Negan got _up close and personal_ with you. You’ve been, effortlessly, evading the man the entire time, but he always found some way to peek into your little world; _the armory._ You wouldn’t have gave him the time of day if he decided to make an appearance. Supposedly, he did. One of your helpers, who went by the name of Maron, mentioned Negan’s input about taking an inventory check next Wednesday. You would definitely need to ensure that everything was accounted for.

 

You were too engrossed in your thoughts to realize that the child was already sleeping. She had fallen still against your chest, sucking on her thumb. Slowly, you maneuvered your thick comforter so you two were snug and toasty. There always seemed to be a draft that found its way into your room.

 

You reached over to turn off the light on your bedside drawer, soon snuggling up against the child. Come tomorrow, you would hope to find Margaux and bring the child back to her. This was only temporary, since you didn’t want to get attached.

 

_You fucking idiot, you already were._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She's a cutie, ain't she? What would you think if we introduced her to Negan, huh?
> 
> Can't wait to find out, honestly. Other than that, tune in next time! Stay gold, y'all! ;]
> 
>  
> 
> (also, the dialogue stated at the beginning of this chapter are lyrics from this song [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G8rm9V2rKZY) ❤ the song and the overall season for that show was so fucking painful jfc. Another series to catch up on -.-)


	6. Tell Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't let him find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, loves!
> 
> So, this is a short chapter, but I have the next one on the way!
> 
> As always, please enjoy ❤

“So, how'd you find her?”

 

Drew was the first one up, taking the grand honor of crawling over to your bed; and waking you from your beauty sleep by simply poking your cheek. A smack upside his head by your hand was the end result. Your hand jutted out to push the younger away, only to get the blanket pulled over your head. The tot was out for the count, oblivious to the sibling shenanigans.

 

“Found her in a room in an abandoned house. Mother took herself out, locked her in. It looked like she wasn't inside there for that long.”

 

The look of shock that coloured your brother’s face was funny all in itself. “How the hell did you get her i--” He stopped himself, putting two and two together. “You didn't.”

 

“I did.” There was no going back, especially now that the child was under Margaux’s care.

 

“Dude, the fact that you fucking smuggled--”

 

“Oh, dear brother. Please! Preach it to the choir. Come on, altar boy! Tell everyone about how I smuggled this kid in here without anyone snooping through my shit.” Feigning dramatics just for your brother, he flicked your cheek out of pure spite.

 

He earned a pinch to his arm, reeling in the abrupt pain on his skin. “Ow! You don't gotta be so mean,” he whined, an eye roll crossing your features.

 

“You're such a baby. To think you could've gotten your license.” Now, you were just fucking with him. Even with world in the shitter, he wasn't allowed to drive any of the vehicles in the compound. You let him drive when you two went on your own scavenger trips. That was really it.

 

“Okay, okay going off tangent. Back to your little hurrah,” Drew retorted, ass on the floor and cross-legged by the side of your bed. “Does Negan know?”

 

“He doesn't, and he won't. Drew--”

 

“He's gonna find out sooner or later. And he’s gonna have our asses shoved onto fucking pikes. (Y/N), you know him. He’ll fucking murder us.”

 

“You don’t think I fucking know that? We're in it for the long haul, dumbass. We haven't earned any special spots,” you pointed out. Amongst everyone in the Saviors, Arat, Simon, Dwight - and others you couldn't name off the top of your head - had reigned their rankings on the leadership board. You and your brother managed to maintain the status that didn't equate to dog shit. You fend for yourselves and that's that. “Don’t say shit. Don’t tip him off. I know he’s fucking dangerous, man. We both know that. But I’ve been holding out on this shit for a week. This shit is on _my_ shoulders, not yours.” You felt a sob bubble in your chest, shaking the feeling away before it could evolve. “I don't want your ass getting involved.”

 

Instead of making a brash response, Drew went for a more sentimental one. “..she reminds you of them, doesn't she?”

 

 

 

 

And that's when the conversation ended. You didn't want to hear it. You sure as hell didn't want to remember all that shit again. By the skin of your teeth, you were close enough to breaking down last night. But you kept yourself intact, mustering the strength you had left.

 

Drew didn't press on, only to deliver the girl to Margaux. Apologies were said by the older woman, and nothing more than a gentle reply escaped your brother.

 

At the corner of his eye, Drew realized he was followed. Being watched by a leather-bearing individual with a smirk on his fucking face. He leaned up against one of the closed bedroom doors, Lucille gripped loosely at his side. Margaux closed her door by the time Drew turned around to face Negan. This wasn't supposed to happen. Fate came knocking at the door and Drew wasn't sure if he should answer it. So, he did what he knew he should do. Striding over to the older man, he greeted him with a _good morning, boss._ It was as fitting as they come.

 

“Let's take a walk, kid.” Negan waved him over, hooking an arm around the teen as they sauntered down the hall. They reached a secluded stairwell illuminated by sunlight. He set Lucille down against the wall, returning his attention to Drew.

 

“Now, it isn't just me, bud,” he flippantly ignored the greeting and went straight to the punch. “But, that kid isn't yours, right? You don't look the type to be fucking women and then being a deadbeat dad? Failing to commit just isn't your forte. And not to mention that Margaux is on the old sagging, banana boat. Didn't think you dig milfs. No offense.”

 

Drew really wanted to fucking deck him, however he fought against the raging urge. To wipe that smirk off his fucking face. He fucking _wished._

 

“She’s not my kid. Someone found the little girl on a run and brought her back. They thought Margaux would be the perfect person to raise her.” The lie seemed legitimate. Drew just hoped Negan would buy it. Then again, the man wasn't an open book, so reading the man was rather taxing.

 

“Is that so?” The smirk couldn't have gotten any wider, and it was really irritating the shit out of Drew. _The fucker is full of himself._  “‘Cause I don't recall anyone informing me about this shit. And we _all_ know that people gotta fucking inform me about what comes in and goes out of this fucking place.” There was a lick of intense anger in Negan's posture, turning to come toe-to-toe with your brother.

 

“As it seems, someone isn't doing their fucking job and owning up to this _heroic_ feat. So, tell me, _Drew_.” The man’s rough drawl matched his actions, shoving Drew onto his knees and catching the kid off guard as a drawn fist came in contact with Drew’s nose. The blow stunned the poor boy, along with the next one directed to his jaw. The blood-curdling crack that followed resounded within the empty stairway. Blood dribbled down the teen's nose, followed by the tear in his cheek and blood coating his teeth. Several more were made to prove Negan’s point, drawing out more blood than needed.

 

“Who the actual _fuck_ told you to deliver that child? Who’s the fucking pussymonger who went under the front lines and brought back that fucking brat? And be honest with me, Drew. I don’t enjoy people fucking lying to my goddamn face!” Another painful hit was made, coating the leader’s fist. There was no remorse at this point, and it was fucking scaring Drew. He wasn’t going to give in to the man’s interrogation, not while he was still breathing.

 

Though, how long could he really last? He didn’t want to go out like this first thing in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol shiiiiiiit. tune in, boos~


	7. Strike One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Where'd Drew run off to? He's supposed to be here by now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, lovelies!
> 
> so, that mid-season finale doe like legit _hearteyes_ lmao
> 
> Anywho, off you go! enjoy c;
> 
> (warnings for vulgar language, bros)

You dove headfirst into the initial set of designs for bullets, hoping the metal would be good enough to use. Some were faulty and lost its luster, whilst the rare, successful batches were stowed away for the future. The weight of a bullet needs to match the amount of powder in the cartridge, so it can fire at the correct speed. You needed more powder, since there were so many magazines that went through these replacements. It became redundant.

 

You were seated at your main worktable, the desk light revealing the extractor groove as you held two freshly made bullets next to each other. You were trying to determine if the bullet would lock onto the indentation come the time for insertion into the magazine, so the end result may or may not be victorious.

 

Music blared from the speakers within the domain of well-stocked weapons and ammo; and range-repertoire. Normally, you were the one choosing the tracks, if Drew wasn't around. Though, today seemed to be the day for free spins for the trainees. Some pop song came on a shuffled iPod. Reminiscent times of road trips rattled your brain when the song flowed through the air.

 

However, there was a disturbance in the range, interrupting several of the trainees. The young women, specifically. They greeted a familiar sod who was heading your way.

 

“Hi, Vinny.” The girls were fucking swooning over the guy, almost made you want to fucking gag. They were even giggling, too. Not that you hadn't had your fair share of acting like some school girl with a crush, but that's besides the point.

 

“Hi, ladies,” the said man replied, grinning towards the group by the targets, acknowledging the other participants as well.

 

You didn't need to turn your back knowing the guns weren't being handled correctly _and_ safely. “Ladies, focus and lower your guns, if you haven't done so already. Fingers off the trigger. He's not your target, so please avert your eyes to the _actual_ target. Wouldn't want to shoot yourselves in the foot, now would we?”

 

Some of the women scowled in your direction due to Vinny’s oncoming approach to you, whilst the rest returned their attention to the goals.

 

Vinny rounded your table, pulling over one of the swivel stools and sat down in front of you. “Hey, (Y/N). How you doing, sweetheart?” He is a spitting image of his father. If only the younger model, that is. From the black hair to the well-muscled build, the swaggering smirk and bad-boy persona wasn't winning him any favours in your presence. But he is handsome, you'd give him that.

 

“Well, you’re distracting the newbies. They weren’t gonna be shooting blanks. Should count yourself lucky.” You cocked your head to the side, folding your arms against your chest. He really could have gotten his ass killed, with the way the girls were waving their guns when he strolled right in.

 

“Aww, I’m sorry,” he placed a hand over his chest, a guilty pout on his face. “I didn’t mean to intrude. Thought I’d drop by and bring you some breakfast.”

 

It took a few seconds before you recognized two plastic bowls filled with the breakfast sampler and two small rolls. Your attention was divided between the delivered food and Vinny, unsure of the man’s ulterior motives.

 

“Thanks..but, what’s the occasion?” You reached for the bowl, accepting his meal ticket.

 

He simply shrugged, taking his bowl and began gobbling it up. It was a nice gesture, but a strange one. He was a friendly guy to everyone in Sanctuary. From what you remember overhearing from one of Negan's conversations whilst having a drink with his men, his son was a sweetheart. The whole bad-boy routine was a hoax. He was just like his mother. Sure, he has his father’s charm and looks, but he had a heart of gold. Reminded you of someone you knew all too long ago. What drew you out of yourself was the whispered _shit_ under Vinny's breath, startled by the abrupt sound of a bullet bouncing off the wall.

 

You were so used to the gunfire that you didn't even bother plugging your ears in. Though, you really should've. Better safe than sorry.

 

The two of you ate in silence, the sound of bullets piercing through the cork boards that were housed up in old offices that were rummaged down to almost nothing.

 

It continued for a while, the strict range-shot routines surveyed by Maron’s supervision. Although, the newbies attention were solely focused at aiming their front site at the target, an uninhibited arrival by Vinny’s father stirred fear in the group's stomachs. Hands were shaking on the grips of handguns, slowly getting down onto their knees to kneel at the very presence of Sanctuary's _respected_ leader.

 

“Fingers off the trigger, ladies and gentlemen. Lower them to the floor,” Maron ordered, lowering himself onto one knee. The others did so without haste, heads held low but eyes meeting their chief.

 

“Morning, everybody! Glad to fucking know we don't have lazy fucks in here. Wouldn't want to throw your sorry asses out on the fucking asphalt with the _rest_ of our lovely crowd outside.” Negan gestured a hand to the windows, signifying the walkers at the gates.

 

Mind you, his hands were still covered with blood, bruises forming at the ridges of his knuckles. One of the women that was kneeling near the range entrance stared directly at the man's palms. She was frightened at the mere sight, shivering from head to toe.

 

“Now, I would ask you guys to show me a demonstration of how well you can shoot. Hell, I'd take you right out to the cage and take your pick on those dead fucks. But, I'm here on other business.” Negan let out a chuckle, noting the woman's fear as he called for David over his shoulder. He entered the room, hauling in your incapacitated brother into the room, forcing Drew to his knees. His face swelled up since he was berated by Negan, blood having streamed from his injuries, down his neck and soaking the collar of his shirt.

 

“Now,” there was a lascivious smirk on his face, taking a few steps deeper into the armory. “Where the fuck is (Y/N)? I wanna have a word with her.”

 

“She's busy, Negan. She's working on the blueprints for--”

 

Your leader strode right up to Maron, a fiery discourse of displeasure forming in the man's eyes as he gripped the man's throat. “Did I _fucking_ ask you to vouch for her!? Did I!?”

 

Maron strained against the vice grip on his throat, shaking his head. “N-no, sir. I-I’m sorry. Please..”

 

The aggression in the man's hold didn't ease up, as he examined the domain intently.

 

You were sure to be here, as far as Negan remembered correctly. You were never in your room, except when it was time to clock out from a shift. Even then, you'd find yourself sleeping at your worktable. You never did win.

 

A few seconds pass before his tawny perception locked on you _and_ Vinny. Jealousy wracked Negan's brain as he grabbed one of the handguns from the table layout, deciding to make his presence known - loud and fucking clear.

 

The two of you were talking amongst yourselves, not even realizing the reticence that blanketed the armory. Before you knew it, bullets hurdled above Vinny’s head, sending the man down onto the floor, along with the swivel stool clattering against the floor. They barely grazed the very tufts of the man's hair, but they were close enough to bring you to your feet.

 

You reached for your piece, pulling back the hammer as you aimed at the man in the limelight.

 

Vinny scrambled to his feet, meeting his father's eyes. “THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, DAD!? YOU FUCKING SHOT AT ME! WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU DO THAT FOR!?”

 

“(Y/N), baby girl. Get your fucking sweet ass over here.” The usage of flirtatious endearments wasn't doing him justice. He crooked his finger in a _come hither_ indication, and you weren't going to give him the satisfaction whatsoever. When you didn't move, his face contorted into a scowl. “Do not make me fucking ask you again, you fucking _bitch_.”

 

“The hell’s wrong with you!? You almost fucking killed him, you fucking bastard!”

 

“Oh, fucking shut up. I aimed over his head. He's fucking fine.” He waved the thought of his son away, the smirk growing broader by the second. “But he isn't.” He jutted a thumb in Drew’s direction, David gripping the nape of your brother's shirt so harshly the boy was crying.

 

When you thought you saw red, you thought you were going to lose it and kill the fucker. Right then and there, the temptation to shoot the fucker was digging its nails so fucking deep into your mind that you couldn't prevent what happened next.

 

Rage searing through your plump form, you quickly set your revolver down onto your table before immediately running up to Negan and jabbing him right in the jaw. Since it was only David who came with Negan, the henchman radioed a few others to come detain you. Negan held a hand up towards his minion, taking matters into his own hands, and bloody ones at that.

 

Vinny sought to hold you back, mustering every ounce in his body to keep you grounded as he held you down. “(Y/N), stop. Before y-” Vinny couldn't get his two cents in before you damn near blew his eardrums when you spoke soon after.

 

“YOU FUCK! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU LAY YOUR GODDAMN HANDS ON MY FUCKING BROTHER!? HOW FUCKING DARE YOU, YOU FUCKING _CUNT!”_ You flailed in Vinny’s arms like a goddamn octopus, wanting to rip Negan's fucking face off for injuring Drew. Vinny brought you down to your knees, his arms pressing you back into him with all his strength. “VINNY, LET GO OF ME!” Eyes were all drawn to you, a mix of emotions filtering the surroundings.

 

Negan scoffed at the blow, along with your onslaught of profanities directed towards him. He rubbed at his jaw, infuriated by your actions. Promptly, he grabbed your arm and pulled you up to your feet, his grip unrelenting as your clothed arm was coated with Drew’s blood.

 

“You're coming with me, princess,” he snarled into your face, his breath hot against your skin. You showed no sign of consternation, glaring the man down from where you stood. “We have shit to fucking discuss.”

 

He practically dragged you passed everyone, tightening his grip on your arm that it almost made you wince. You looked over at Drew, his hands reaching out for you as he choked on his tears. He looked so young right now, wanting the affectionate comfort of a familial embrace. But he wouldn't get that, not as of yet. You tried scuffling against Negan's grasp, only for it to be knocked up a few notches.

 

“Vinny, you better bring him to Carson! Get him patched up, please!” Those were the last few words you could say before you were around the corner, off to God knows where.

 

If you had the chance, you would surely savor the pleasure of fucking beating the shit out of Negan.

  
  
  
He was going to pay for what he did to Drew, you were fucking sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. What happens next? 
> 
> Tune in, folks!


	8. What You Deserve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _How long do you think you can forget about how much I kept you alive? It's your damn fault that they're all dead. You should be blaming yourself._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, darlings!
> 
> Trigger warnings for the following:
> 
> Past rape history, hallucinations, minor violence, and slurs.
> 
> (If I left any tags unexpressed above, please let me know! Other than that, to those who are survivors of rape, please know that you're so strong and that you're doing so well. All of you are, and I am so proud of you all. Please be safe out there, and if anything happens, please do not hesitate to seek professional help - if needed)
> 
> Overall, I love you all and I hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much for the supporting views from you all, it truly means a lot ❤

_“(Y/N). Where are you?” He spoke as if he were singing a song, the creepy effect surely making its impact. The area was dark, save for the twin-head work lights at every open corner of the warehouse._

_“You alone out here, you little slut?”_

_Your breathing became uneven, your attempts of remaining calm faltering at the seams._

_“Don't need to be so scared, my little whore. I promise to take_ ** _good_** _care of you, like I always do.” Every word he uttered was whispered, slowed by the anticipation in his undertones._

_Kid, please. Please be quiet. Don't let him hear you, don't let him see you. And for fucks sake, don't let him find you. Try to calm yourself down, please…_

_“Hmm..where would you be..” You heard the footsteps coming closer, curling into yourself more as bit your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. The sound of chairs being tossed haphazardly across the room, to tarps being stabbed and torn through with a sharp edge._

_“Now..we all know..you can't be hiding the baby from their father, now can you? So just come on out. I'm not going to hurt you.” He chuckled darkly as you started to see steel-toed boots and a bright flashlight making their way to your hiding spot. How you managed to wedge yourself in between two bins slotted so close to each other in the corner was beyond you. “Yet.”_

_The grated platform above you provided enough shadow casting, hiding enough of your stout form than you gave credit for. You hugged your knees to your chest, the tight formation drawing out an anguishing pressure you needed to keep restraining. Although you shouldn't be applying too much force to your swelling womb, you wouldn't give yourself up to the wretched man who maimed you._

 

_“Listen, if you're in a tight squeeze, you might as well come out. You're harming our fucking child, (Y/N)." He averted his eyes to the platforms above, shining his flashlight in all directions. "You deserve the award for best mother of the year. So, why not get your fucking ass out here to claim your prize, or I will burn this entire place to the fucking ground.”_

_Unfortunately, you know how powerful he is. He would see this through, setting the entire depot aflame without a second thought. He wouldn't let you escape, and he'd definitely risk the life of his child to kill you. But he hasn't and he wouldn't. He was giving you a goddamn chance._

 

_The footsteps stopped right near your corner, the flashlight shutting off. Your heart instantly started beating rapidly, the anxiety and petrifying suspence filling your fucking ears like rising tides._

 

 _“It’s a shame, you know. I didn’t wanna do the things I did, but you made me do it. You made me do_ **_all_ ** _of it. If you weren’t such a sneaky, little slut, you wouldn’t be in this sticky situation.” The approaching steps grew closer, until his boots came into view. You suppressed a sob in your throat, tasting the copper on your lips as your vision became glassy with tears._

 _“And did you really think I wouldn't find you, (Y/N)?” Squatting, he tilted his head to the side. He didn't need his flashlight to see you, the whites of his teeth showing in the darkness of the shadows. “Do you think I'm that_ ** _fucking_** _stupid?”_

_Then everything faded to black. It was so painful. There was no token of penitence for what would soon befall unto you._

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

“Get your ass in here, you stupid slut.” Negan shoved you into an unfamiliar room, kicking the door shut behind him.

“Get your fucking hands off of me, and the slut just might listen.” You were going to make him work for it, and vice versa. He forced you into one of the single chairs set in front of a glass coffee table with a black, grated finish

Taking in the walls of grey in the room, to the drapery before the window blinds, to the mattress with an ensemble a few shades lighter. Looked a helluva lot nicer than your room, with the many vases and pottery set beside miscellaneous items in tables and shelves. There was even a fucking potted plant in the corner of the room. _How quaint._

The sound of an analog ticked in the background, stabilizing the tension in the air.

You felt lips near your hair, hands on either armrest as he leaned over you. “So, you going to tell me who the hell brought that kid into _my_ fucking compound? Or does Drew need another reminder?”

“You fucking touch him, again, I’ll fucking rip you apart,” you snarled out, glaring daggers in his presence. An impudent response seemed to suffice.

He guffawed, shaking his head. He stood up straight, stepping a foot around until he backhanded your cheek so forcefully it sent you back into the seat. He gripped the armrests to turn the chair towards him, the strengthened shift startling you as you cupped your cheek. The pain that blossomed from the slap drew your eyes to his.

 

“ _Wow_ , you really think you have the fucking _audacity_ to backtalk me, sweetie? My god, you must be real fucked up in the noggin to think that.” A grimace came over his features, glaring daggers towards you. “I’m the fucking one who has the iron hand, not **you** , you fucking bitch. You fucking hear me?”

 

“Fuck. You,” you bit out, leaning back against the cushioned seat. Though, another slap to the other side of your face brought you back to your senses, or what was left of it.

 

He has this maniacal expression that didn’t cease when you looked back at him. “Well, I can tell now that you’re the fucking culprit who brought the lil’ shit in here. Fucking really, bitch? You really _fucking_ think that she has a place here!? One more mouth to fucking _feed_ in this place! She doesn't need to be here.” He leaned up to caress your bottom lip, now split with blood. “I'm gonna have one of my men take her out. Might send Margaux off the deep end, maybe.” He sounded so fulfilled, that you didn't stop yourself from punching the man square in the face.

 

The man stumbled backwards, caught off guard. But he was quick to pin you back to the chair with a pulsating grip at your throat. “My, oh my. Why the hell would you fucking do that?” He gritted out, blood trickling down his nostrils as it soon made its way to his teeth.

“Don't you fucking touch her, Negan. Or so help me--” His grasp tightened, gulps of air dissipating.

“Or what?” He leaned his face closer, his lips just a breath away from yours. “What are you gonna do, darling? Because you couldn't save your brother from his beating, what makes you think you'll be able to protect that little girl with what I have planned? It’s all your damn fault for letting that shit happen. You brought this shit on yourself.”

The close proximity wasn't what scared you. No it didn't. The way the man presented himself with such ferocity, mirroring a toxic monster that had you in his bloodied clutches.

“Y-you’re no different than him..” Why were there tears in your eyes, again? Why are you making yourself so vulnerable, now?

 

 _He’s watching you, for Christ’s sake._ _You’re letting this happen, again. Why? Why, kid?_

 

Your insides churned at the very thought of your past. Those disgusting hands dragging themselves down the entirety of your body. Defiling your very soul with just the look of his hazel eyes. Recollecting the agony drawn by those hands and those eyes. Negan wondered what made you immobile in hands, tears now streaming down your face. The overwhelming sensory memory surrounding you - sent you - into a downward spiral.

It wasn’t Negan anymore. The monster’s very image contorted into someone different, someone far more fearful than anything you’ve come across. He was older, his hair a swirl of white on his head. It was so soft, from what you remember, but the glint in his eyes was what put you in a trance. He wanted to prove to you that he was the _right one_ for you. That he’d protect you and make sure nothing would ever happen to you. He wanted to be just like _him_.

 

And that’s why he killed him.

 

_“Don’t be scared, sweetheart. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”_

 

 

_“But you will..you always will..”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who is she talking about??
> 
> Tune in, loves! ❤


	9. You're safe, here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you think you're okay, kid?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, lovelies!
> 
> I just wanna take a moment to say how much I appreciate the supporting views this story has gotten. In my opinion, I've always thought of myself as a shitty writer, with no sense of prose and shit. But, y'all, really make a lady feel special and I'm utterly appreciative of it every single day.
> 
>  
> 
> So, thank you very much. I love you all, and I hope you enjoy this next chapter! ❤

_It's your own damn fault, you know. They're all dead because of you. They paid the price for your foolishness, and you couldn't do anything about it. No, scratch that. You_ ** _didn't_** _do anything_ _about it. You let the man who swore to protect you, take the very scrap of dignity you had left and stretched it. Ripped it in all directions and into fragments, until you couldn't function as a normal human being. You were his puppet to use for his pleasures. That was all._

 

_But, how could you let that happen to you? Did you think you deserved it?_

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

At this point, repressing the memories were proving to be a war upon endless war that would never end. You were unable to contain the emotions that were set free by this harsh encounter. Your pride was lost, and now you were just an open shell. Defenseless and splintered, you couldn't hold back the sobs from escaping.

 

You were shaking from head to toe, your perception distorted. Voices were inaudible to your mind.

 

_“(Y/N). (Y/N), snap out of it. Be here with me. Fucking stay here with me. Come on, now.”_

 

Those words, you could hear them. Just barely, but you could hear them. They were a relieving vow, somehow, laced with affection and comfort beyond what the years have given you. You couldn't tell if they were the memories swimming through your surroundings, defining the very image with their portrayals. This was the first sense you were regaining, the words becoming a pleading mantra. A calming white noise.

 

“I-I'm..I'm..I'm sorry..I'm so..I'm so sorry..please..please, forgive me..I didn't mean to.” You found your voice, or was it the other way around? Regardless, the other individual in the room took notice and was making every attempt to console you. The voice became clearer.

 

“Fucking shit...sweetheart, come on.. _look_ at me. Focus on _me_ , goddammit.”

 

The next sense that followed was sight. The monster was gone. There were no wisps of white and grey hair, just the shift of a darker hue coming into view. A tawny gaze reveled in your awareness, the familiarity finally coming full circle. Black leather jacket, salt and pepper beard, slicked back, black locks.

 

The last sense that manifested itself was touch. You forgot how gentle hands could be, when you were in the right company. You felt the back of a hand ever so delicately wipe away the tears from your eyes, from your cheeks. You all but flinched, realizing you were still recovering. The man lowered his hand so he could cup your cheek, caressing your cheek in gentle motions.

 

“Shit, (Y/N). Fuck, don't be scared. I'm not gonna..I'm not gonna do shit to you. I'm not gonna hit you, again. I promise.”

 

Like a jigsaw puzzle with three main pieces missing, and soon found for the complex mind, you finally connected your senses in exchange for recognition.

 

It wasn't the monster that buried itself beneath your skin. It wasn't the monster that violated you, and made your skin crawl with all of your insecurities like open scars that bled into everything you held close to your fucking heart.

 

It was Negan.

 

You’re seeing _him_ for the first time, not the monster long ago. He made sure you _knew_ it was _him_ by the smell of smoke and cologne intermingling. That's how you came to know him, especially on a close basis. It reminded you so much of _him_ , that you choked on a sob that you tried constricting.

 

“(Y/N), you're okay. It's okay..You're here with me. You're okay.”

 

He sounded unsure. It wasn't like him at all, acting how he was, now. Rekindling the day he whispered an endearment that shattered everything you knew about yourself. He drove past every single insecurity about you and turned you inside out, in just one night. But, see, that was it.

 

One night and a shitton of fucking regrets. You wouldn't dwell on it, not for a second.

 

It took you awhile before you registered where you were. You were still in Negan's bedroom. Though, instead of being pinned back to the chair just a few feet away, you were on your side in his bed.

 

_How the hell did he move you when you literally lost your fucking senses? You weren't the lightest one to maneuver._

 

Your head was laying on one of the pillows. Plush as they came, smelling just like the man of the hour. The man himself lay beside you, keeping eye contact the entire time. When he knew you were starting to calm yourself down, your irregular breathing becoming a silent hum, he let his hand drift from your cheek to draw circles on your clothed hip. The touch wasn't meant to be sensual, and you knew that, too. It was soothing, comforting. You were utterly grateful for it.

 

After a while, he spoke up, asking, “The fuck was that all about, huh? Why were you saying you were sorry and asking for my forgiveness?”

 

Although you would love nothing more to confess the truth behind your plea, now wasn't the time for it. You needed to make sure Drew was taken care of, and that the child wasn't in harm's way.

 

When you didn't reply, he asked again, a bit more differently this time. “(Y/N). What the _fuck_ happened to you?”

 

The look in your eyes implored that you couldn't answer him. You don't think you ever could, at this point.

 

You shook your head. Making haste to sit up and throwing your legs over the edge to hop off the mattress, the bed spring creaked ever so slightly as you headed for the door. You needed to get as far away from the man as humanly fucking possible. 

 

Negan didn't hesitate to follow you as he jumped off his bed, stopping you from leaving, with the door that you tried to open was now closed shut by his hand. Turning you around to face him, the man wasn't going to let you go that easy, so you were going to have to do it yourself.

 

“(Y/N), you don't have the fucking right to do this. Don't you try to fucking blow this shit off and run away like it was nothing. You fucking went AWOL right in front of me, fucking crying and shit. The fuck happened to you, that made you go off on some sort of waterworks’ trip?”

 

Again, you weren't you going to tell him. You stared at the zipper that stopped at a certain point on his jacket, your expression stoic and undefined.

 

He lifted your chin with his palm, making you perceive him more directly.

 

_You're not gonna tell him. You won't. He doesn't deserve to know. And why should he care? You're absolute fucking shit, kiddo. Fucking get with the goddamn program, already._

 

“(Y/N)--”

 

“Negan, I..” You closed your eyes, his touch never leaving your chin. You opened them, gathering your notions. “I'll tell Simon you reset my points to zero. I'll work to make sure that girl will be provided for. All I ask is that you _don't_ kill her. Just..please, Negan. Don't kill her. And don't hurt my brother ever again. That's all I fucking ask, man.”

 

You chose to ignore Negan's interrogation once more. The sheer luck of avoidance was key, here.

 

He examined your features, your defiance to respond to his questioning was making his patience run thin. He seemed to be battling every part of himself, genuinely _wanting_ to understand why you reacted the way you did. If he had to wait, then so be it.

 

However, he wasn't going to let you leave without going through with what he had planned to do all along.

 

The same hand that never left your chin moved to card fingers through your dark hair, drawing you in for a painless embrace. Supple, warm lips graced yours, an arm snaking around your waist to press you right up against his towering form.

 

_His lips were so fucking soft. The scruff of his beard made the affection ten times better. He made you feel so fragile in his arms. It was unusual, yet so goddamn surreal._

 

The kiss lasted longer than you thought, Negan slipping his tongue into the midst. You couldn't subdue the moan that practically ripped right out of you, letting your arms wrap around his neck subconsciously. He turned just a hair to deepen the bracing kiss, taking a step forward so that your back was against the door. A few more seconds passed when he finally stopped short, a shuddering breath fleeing from you.

 

He let out an amused chuckle, preceding right to his smirk. _Typical bastard, so goddamn full of himself._

 

“Been wanting to do that for a _very_ long time. And you seemed to fucking enjoy it just as much as I did, sweetheart.”

 

You were torn between wanting to drag him in for another searing embrace, to pushing him away and denying that this will ever happen again. Nevertheless, you went for the neutral route.

 

“I..I should go. I have to find Simon.”

 

Now, you swore that this man was a switchboard. Every flip of a switch would make him do all sorts of things. Making decisions that were the best for the Sanctuary, for the Saviors - for himself. Then again, the choices he makes were what make or break what you have here.

 

And that kiss?

 

You hoped to fucking God that it wasn't a mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah! 
> 
>  
> 
> _Fucking finally, Caity. You were holding shit out on us, fucking fuck._
> 
>  
> 
> tune in, loves! Stay gold ❤


	10. Solitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Keep on working, kid. You'll get better, in time_

With your brother’s ass getting handed to him, to Negan being _Negan_ , was a _great_ start to your fucking day. Today couldn't have gotten any worse, and the instant decrease of your points was the least of your problems. You'll survive. You always do.

When you confronted Simon about your point tally, informing him that it was Negan's decision. The mustache-bearing man found the details unorthodox, especially in correlation to Negan's systematic organization.

 

And the day progressed as per usual, with a daily supply run as it was accompanied by the best of Negan's men. Rookies tested their skills in the range before being led out to the cage, some chickening out, whilst others finished up the job for them. Nothing short of a successful day, Maron made sure everyone had a chance or at least made the newbies realize what they were up against.

Harping your brother to rest for the day, cleaned up and stitched to better mitigate his current physical state. Last you saw him, he was knocked out on his bed, the painkillers taking effect in no time. Apologizing to your kid brother was like a closed container of chopped liver, he wasn't _having_ it.

_“Wasn't gonna rat you out to that fuck nut, man. The guy may be intimidating as fuck, but we've had worse. So. Much. Worse.”_

Drew was right. You knew that yourself. And that's why you sat at your worktable, the transition from dusk to the late evening came in full shift. Weapons galore were sorted accordingly, stored away for the night. You requested that Maron take an inventory count, which he did without any issues, setting the notepad on your desk once he was done.

Noting your hair, now tied into a messy bun, hands bandaged up due to the constant failure of crimping bullets and harsh backfiring from the wrong amount of powder in the bullets. In such a fatigued state, Maron had some concerns on his plate.

“(Y/N). Did you eat or drink anything, today?” He asked.

You shook your head, holding a bullet up to the desk light. The indentation from the crimping was perfect, but the amount of powder needed to be weighted _correctly_. Wouldn't want to have to unravel your bandage just to fix it back up, again.

“Really? Then, let me grab something for you before they lock up the kitchen.”

“Maron, my points are at zero. Have to make this shit up, so I can actually have a chance at waiting on line to get my own damn meal.” You didn't mean for your words to come out as harsh, so you hoped Maron was understanding of it.

“And that's why _I'm_ going to get you food, dumbass. Come on, (Y/N). You can't complete an assignment without something _edible_ in your stomach. Points or not, you have to fucking eat something.” Everyone was Mr. Right, today. Started to irritate the shit out of you.

“Maron, I'm _fine_. For real, I'm good.” You met those icy blues, who seemed to be begging more than his words let on. “You look fucking beat. You're dismissed, Mr. Min.”

At least you got a chuckle out of the guy, a smile tugging at his lips. “Not like I need your permission, anyway. See you tomorrow, Shorty McFly.” He headed for the entrance, his canvas bag over his shoulder with a pep in his step.

“Keep talking like Vinny, and see what happens.” You called out, the man bidding you good night as he left through the doors.

Just as the man was exiting, Negan was around the corner. Maron saw him at the corner of his eye, getting down on one knee once the door closed.

“Evening, Negan.”

With his hands in his pants pockets, a shit-eating grin on his face, the man must've fucked one of his wives to be _that_ satisfied. Or he ended up torturing some poor sod. Either way, it wouldn't have come as a shock to Maron.

“As you were, Mare. Just taking a stroll.” The man stood up at that, nodding stiffly as he turned the other cheek, leaving in the opposite direction, towards the dorms.

Aside from keeping his eyes out for any stragglers at this time of the night, Maron made sure to listen to the footsteps of the narcissistic leader.

Just as Maron himself rounded the corner, he stopped. There wasn't any heavy boots following him down the hall. Slight shuffling, but that was all. He slowly leaned back on his heel to perceive where Negan was standing or had went off to, the point of interest opening the armory doors ever so quietly and ducking in, the next.

Negan's arrival left the man unsettled, but he knew he should return to his room. Hoping for the best that nothing would happen to you, and that Negan was just going to talk to you, he finally took off.

 

As for the head honcho, he arrived just as you were standing up at your desk.

You wore one of Drew's _massive_ hoodies. The kid was fucking 6’5”, so he was just a goddamn giant whenever you two would be flanking each other. So, any article of clothing you borrowed would normally end up in your hamper, rather than his since you harbored them like they were going out of style.

You had the grey hood over your head, cascading your face. But some strands of your hair stuck out, which was a given. Your ears were plugged with the earbuds you kept even before the dead was the most popular trend. The _only_ pair that actually fucking worked, since _someone_ \- namely _Drew_ \- lost the damn cord for your headphones, and so you were left with the latter. No complaints, of course.

One of your favorite musicians came on shuffle, your iPod stowed away in your pocket. The music was loud in your ear, which surely gave Negan a better advantage at sneaking up on you. He hadn't left his spot, watching you.

Aside from the bandages that wrapped up your hands, you wore a pair of carbon-fiber, fire-resistant gloves to save you the pain. They were big enough to fit Drew's long limbs, so it was a hassle to move your arms with them on. But they would suffice.

You twiddled with the necklace you wore, a shining glow at the center of your clothed chest as the sound of tinkling filled the air. There were three rings on the silver chain, from what Negan could make out. He moved closer, to get a better look it. He stopped behind the shelving, peering over the bins to keep his interests from being interrupted.

You flexed your fingers for a moment, soon taking the bin filled with new bullets that haven't had the chance to be properly crimped. Regrettably, you much preferred to have the cannelure of the bullet to be present, but you couldn't have everything. _Appreciate what you have, or whatever._

You carried the blue bin to another station, this one specifically made for this purpose. And let's just say, you had a better time completing a set now than you did, prior. Also, the bullets let you focus on the task at hand, rather than your mind wandering about into the dark crevices of your memories.

You blew off the minor metal dust left from the crimps on the final bullets before tossing them back into the open container, retreating back to your table.

As always, you didn't realize until you were a few feet away from your desk that Negan had stolen your seat. The man had a mischievous smile on his face, which wasn't a good sign. You came to a stop before the metal table, setting the bin down.

“Hey there, sweetheart. How you doing?”

  
  
_He just couldn't leave well enough alone, could he? You hoped he would keep his fucking mouth shut, before you really went off the deep end._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, loves!
> 
> This is, technically, a filler. Been dicing and slicing shit up, editing and fuckall. I apologize for that! Also, have to deal with real-life adult crap for a bit, so bear with me plz ;__;
> 
> Stay gold! ❤


	11. You gonna run?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _it's okay to walk away, kid. No pressure._

_ You swore, the man never sleeps. Sure, he sleeps with his wives, and that shit’ll keep him up at night. But, to make a guest appearance every fucking time you go through shit, it's like a bad omen. _

  
  
  


Humming to break the silence that encircled the two of you, he pulled over your finished bin towards himself. Mindlessly, you put your hands behind your back, removing the gloves in the process as they slid off fairly easily. He picked up one of the freshly crimped bullets, examining one before moving onto another. Each of them were cut well enough, although it was a tedious process, so, of course, there would be imperfections. “They're looking good, darling.  _ Real _ good.”

 

“Thanks,” you muttered, tossing the gloves to the side. “I tested some of the previous batches, and..well.” You held both your hands up, the bandages now visible.

 

“Jesus fucking Christ, (Y/N). Now, I can't say you don't do shit around here.” Now he was just being an ass, which really needed to be knocked down a few notches. “Got some  _ real _ working hands.”

 

The commentary coaxed an eye roll from your person, a deadpanned expression following suit of you.

 

“..what, not funny?” He stared at your stout presence, sporting a playful pout. “And here, I thought I was a fucking comedian.”

 

You didn't respond, just fiddling with the hem of your sweater as you casted your eyes to the stained floor. Someone must've spilled some sort of acid, because that shit isn't going to fucking leave anytime soon.

 

You saw the man in your peripherals, hearing the tapping of his boots under the desk. The more you made him wait, the more he reacted like a goddamn child. “Seriously, (Y/N)? Why the fuck aren't you fucking talking to me? What the fuck did I do?”

 

You had all the more reason to say shit about the altercation that happened today, but you chose to be generous. 

  
  
  


Okay, just a little bit. 

  
  


Negan tried, again. This time, recalling the early encounter in his room. “Listen, if you're not gonna be all shits and fucking giggles, and be some fucking fuddy duddy, party pooper fuck, then at least be serious with me.”

 

The fact that he used  _ fuddy duddy  _ and  _ party pooper  _ in a same sentence was amusing altogether.

 

He shifted in the stool, his elbows now on the table as he leaned forward.

 

“Negan, I can't. I just can't.” You beat him to the punch, knowing this was going to get worse rather than do any good.

 

“Why the fuck can't you? What is this shit that's got you all fucking wired u--”

 

“It isn't your fucking business, alright!? First of all, why the fuck do you need to know!? Whatever fucking shit that happened to me before I even came to Sanctuary, isn't your fucking concern, Negan!” It really wasn't his problem; his burden to fucking bear.

 

“The hell it  **fucking** is!” Slamming a fist so hard into your work desk, he, undoubtedly, made a dent on its once smooth surface.  “Whatever the  _ fuck _ is on your fucking plate - whether past or future fucking shit - is  _ my _ fucking business. You live in  _ my _ community, abiding by  _ my  _ fucking rules. You fucking get that, (Y/N)?” The snarl that fiddled his lips met the tenacity of fury in the man's eyes.

 

The amount of temerity the man was exhibiting was making things worse for yourself. You kept your composure the best that you could, a stuttering breath slipping.

_Why the fuck should **he** be the one to be pissed off? This wasn't his fucking problem.  He doesn't **_fucking_** _care about you, you fucking_ ** _idiot_** _. He just wants to find this shit out just so he can hold it against you. That kiss? Didn't mean_ ** _fucking_** _shit. All those kind words and soothing hands were just a fucking joke. He's playing you for a con, for his goddamn entertainment. Don't fucking give him the gratification of finding out the truth. You can walk away. Get up and just walk away, kid. He may have reeled you in for the bait, but you just might just jump ship at the sign of trouble. And he's everything you want and don't want, and it's something you need to get out of your fucking head, kid.__

 

If the man knew what was best for himself, then he should really get the hint and keep his damn mouth shut. But he was having none of it, and it was really irking the shit out of you. Why the man wanted to know so much about  _ him _ was exceeding your personal boundaries, even moreover.

 

He hasn't taken his eyes off of you, his tongue slipping out just a sliver in contemplation.

 

It was after a couple of minutes that you pulled over a stool and lowered yourself onto it, pulling yourself right up against the worktable.

 

The temptation to admit such an atrocity - a tragic assault - was a burden and was a heavy weight that never went away. But accepting the fact that it  _ did _ happen, and that there  _ were _ casualties that coincided was the hardest part of it all.

 

He laced fingers together, pressing his lips to his hands. He shrugged his shoulders, intent in his eyes. “I have  _ all _ night, sweetheart. I ain't going anywhere. So you better get used to me fucking interrogating the fucking shit outta you until the cat's out of the bag.”

 

At the pit of your gut, the pressure of admittance was extremely overwhelming. Your thoughts were clouding your perception, clearly masking every single scream that told you to fucking _run_.

 

 

 

_So, why couldn't you do it **now**?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, lovies!
> 
> I will probably be uploading a couple of more before life becomes a butt. So this one was a shorty, and so will the next ones, I think. I'm sorry!
> 
> Stay gold ;3 ❤


	12. Don't tease

_How long has it been?_

 

_That weight of sleep on your eyes. You gonna cave in or what, kid? Time is money. Well, money being the points you need to earn back for that stunt you pulled. Stop being a little shit._

 

“Why do you want to know so badly? What do you think you're gonna get out of this if I do decide to _finally_ tell you?”

 

“Because, _sweetheart_ , if you don't fucking tell me who the fuck messed with ya, then I won't know how to get to know you any better. You're making this shit feel like a fucking arms race, trying to fucking get through to your sorry ass.”

 

Huh. _That_ was definitely a change of pace. The funny part was that Negan didn't register what the hell he just said until it was too late.

 

“Well...the fuck I meant was,” he bit out, coursing a hand through his now poofy hair. The gel only did so much until a few strands came loose and every last one followed in tow. “I..I don't know. Look, if we're gonna keep going on like this, like we have for the past fucking hour, then at least tell me about your goddamn tattoos.”

 

Grazing one topic and unto the next. You didn't even think he would have taken notice to those when you were in your birthday suit. Then again, the man _is_ observant - when he wanted to be.

 

“Well, which ones?”

 

“The ones I fucking saw. _What the fuck do you think?_ ” He still kept up his childish demeanor, waiting for you to humor him. The man looked about this close to popping a blood vessel with you. Being stubborn was a rewarding trait, especially when you got Negan to be..humble, per se. Not that you'd deny that his usual, exuberant personality didn't win him any brownie points. Again, besides the point.

 

“Fine, fine. The, uh, the rose..it was for my younger sister...her name was Jess. She always had a thing about roses, especially red ones. And, well..yeah.” You didn't stop to think that this was hurting you more than almost uttering the monster’s name. It seemed to hurt so, _so_ much more.

 

“What happened to her?” he asked after a beat. The sincerity in his voice was far more astonishing than you would have accepted.

 

“Like everyone else. The world's cruel. Can't prevent _everything_. It sucks ass. Things you gotta live with..”

 

With the way Negan's eyes watched you, it was becoming so much harder to feel like you had a fucking grip on everything. Somehow, you were letting Negan see what you've been trying to hide these last two years. You felt every inch of yourself start to burn, but not in the most uncomfortable way. The complete opposite, if anything.

 

“Go on.”

 

“Um, the...the crescent moon..that was for my...my...” Before you could bear to say more, you stood up from your stool and started pacing.

 

Remembering the soul-crushing anguish of losing the ones you love were insufferable periods you wanted to toss into the shredder and forget it ever existed. But they did, and you couldn't bear to lose anymore than you did. They were the pieces that never went away, enveloped fathoms deep.

 

The fact that he didn't force you to continue was a relief, but you got this far. _Don't quit while you're ahead._  You didn't even realize your pacing ended up right at Negan's feet. Those eyes didn't have a hint of scrutiny, not even a tinge of haughty amusement. You tucked your hands into the sweater pockets, looking down your battered up sneakers.

_Could you really say her name without breaking down? Maybe._

 

“The crescent moon was for my daughter...Luna.”

 

Almost instantly, you saw Negan's expression faded slightly from a gleaming warmth to shrouded remorse in your peripherals. He didn't realize the extent of how much internal suffering could do to a person, and you proved to be one of those people that just kept on _keeping on._

 

“And for that, it's a story for another day.”

 

 

* * *

  


_Wow, kid. You gonna cut it short like that? You think that's the best idea, especially when you're drawing this shit out like a goddamn Picasso or Vincent Van Gogh masterpiece._

 

 _Fucking give it a rest, already. How far are you gonna go with this? You gonna tell him your life story? Maybe talk over dessert, with a piece of apple pie and talk about your future together? What a fucking scam, kid. A goddamn pipe dream. Keep believing that he'll actually notice you, and then get your face kicked in for meddling into the wrong hands. You're just like everyone else. You work for the guy; he's your_ **_boss_** _. That's all he_ **_fucking_ ** _is. Nothing more, nothing less._

 

_But I see you, kid._

 

 _Developing those fucking feelings. You keep that shit bottled up_ _, so being stubborn as all hell just so you could keep his company longer was what you're gonna get. You don't seem to mind. Ever since you saw him that day, you felt like you needed to prove something to him. Like the bullets and every little thing you scavenged for, it wasn't enough._

 

_And do you know why you felt you needed to do that? Oh ho, kiddo.._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_Don't go down that rabbit hole. You're gonna lose yourself, again. And how are you gonna be saved from yourself?_

  
_Ask yourself that._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy, lovies!
> 
> Again, little tidbits are the best I can shell out, even when I should be adulting. But, this relieves the tension and anxiety, so it's plus - in one retrospect lmao
> 
> But yo, I wanna thank y'all for the support and appreciate it every single day. Stay gold, loves ❤


	13. it's okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, lovies! 
> 
> I apologize for being M.I.A., but I'm back! The adulting has been settled (temporarily) and am now in full swing!
> 
> So, I thought I'd surprise y'all with a Christmas present ;)

In actuality, you expected Negan to, at least, _flip shit_. Scream your goddamn head off for neglecting to inform him about this shit. Or even storm out just to reprimand one of his men for letting your history bypass the system. He knew almost everything about everyone - which wasn't a downside. It's always beneficial when you know the ones who provide for you. God forbid, someone tries to cop a feel on one of his wives, and all hell would break loose. Or even try to kill the man in his sleep. There have been numerous attempts, and none were successful. Lucille did the dirty work, for the most part. It wasn't a surprise, honestly. _That_ was what you expected from him.

 

 _Not_ embracing you the way he did. Getting up on his own two feet, enveloping you in those arms that felt all too safe; _sympathetic_. _Not_ peppering kisses to your hair like a frightened child who's afraid of the monster under their bed. _That_ wasn't what you expected from him.

 

_And when did you even start crying? Jesus, kid. Grow. Up._

 

“S’alright, sweet girl..s'alright.” The words were spoken into the tufts of your hair. Gentle as skimming the surface of an open lake. Unperturbed; _tranquil_.

 

Needless to say, you concealed your pride because, _really_ , what were you trying to do? Are you trying to make him see that, behind your flaws, lies a much larger problem? Do you think he'll really care?

 

_Probably not. So, wipe those tears and suck it up, buttercup. You have better shit to deal with._

 

You're funny, though. You didn't push him away. When he took you into his arms, you hoped he would never let you go.

 

See, that was the thing about you. _Hope._ You _hoped_ that the ones you loved would have lived their lives, today. You _hoped_ they would be right by your side, surviving. You _hoped_ that there would be vengeance, when it came to finding _him_. You _hoped_ there would come a time when you would love, again. All this talk of hope, and you never took the time to focus on the present, rather than the past.

 

_You're a goddamn cliché. All typical, dreading on the past. Measuring yourself and stringing up your demons, lining them up like some goddamn freak show. Lose the fucking shitshow of hope, already. Haven't you had enough of this shit?_

 

 _They're gone. They're all_ **_gone_** _. Why can't you get that through your sorry, little head? There is_ **_no_ ** _bringing them back. You watched them die, sunshine. You must be real_ **_fucked_ ** _in the head, if you think you can gain the redemption you yearn so much for._

 

_He'll find you. He always does._

  


“You listening to me, (Y/N)?”

 

“Hmm?..w-what?” The emotional headspace slowly faded into a comfortable tension, enough that your legs managed not to collapse by themselves.

 

“Jesus, girl. Your mind's always fucking wandering off, overthinking shit.” He chuckled lightly, cupping your damp cheek. The movement was enough to drag your eyes from the bottom of his bearded chin, to the warmth in his eyes. Amusement was swiped off the table, in exchange for stern consolation. “What I was saying was..you're a strong woman, (Y/N). You got guts, and losing the people you love..well, that shit in your sack. I mean, if it were me and it was Vinny, I..I wouldn't know what to do with myself. Yeah, I might have just carried on the way I fucking do, now. Maybe off myself, next chance I had.”

 

Why was he fessing up to this?  _Oh, you're a strong woman, you're going through hella shit. Lemme take pity on your sorry ass just so it gets the ball rolling. Might be a strikeout, if anything. It'd be my goddamn fucking pleasure._

“I..I did. I mean, I tried. But..never mind.”

 

 _Well, you really could tell him, if you_ **_really_ ** _wanted to. There was no harm in it._

  


_Maybe._

 

“Well, I can see why you took the kid in. But, like I've told everyone else, if those kids can't pull their own, then they're out on their fucking asses. You best be making sure that she _will_ fucking train, when she's able.” _Well, no shit. She was, what, three or something?_

 

Her name is Kailani, from what Margaux told you when she came around with the girl. The child's was now sporting her natural afro with a few flower bows clipped to her hair. She hid behind Margaux's frame, timid in her advances to greet you. Though, when she finally saw that it was you, the most blinding smile almost made you clutch your chest at how adorable she was.

 

_She definitely did resemble features of Jess and Luna. Now, what kind of sorcery is that? In this lifetime, you hoped it was just some sort of mirage or some fucking magic act, all smoke and mirror shit. You blink a few times, and maybe they'd be there. Maybe._

 

“I'll get Lani on that.” You nodded in turn, looking up to the man that you almost strained your neck just to see him better.

 

“Lani?”

 

“Well, Kailani. Margaux got that out of the baby.”

 

“Huh.” His grip never loosened around you, his wanderings hands now playing with the hem of your sweater.

 

There was a comfortable silence that never left the two of you, even when he let you go.

 

He cleared his throat, looking you over for a moment. “You gonna be alright, sweetheart?” He gave a knowing nod, keep your sights.

 

“Yeah.” You waved a dismissive hand towards the older man, a soft smile painting your features.

 

_The way he was looking at you was like the way any lover would. Beyond perfection, masked by an inconspicuous aura that never ceased to put you in such an alluring - enthralling - trance. You wish he would give it a rest, already. He was just playing you. You didn't deserve such a fucking **pure** look. This is a goddamn comedy act. He has six or whatever amount of wives he could sweep off their feet without an issue, using his kind nature to coax a fuck out of them. And yet, look at how he's being all generous with his affections, trading them in to watch you unravel like a ball of tangled yarn. Wherever the ends were, the very tip of the yarn string was the start of a beautiful nightmare._

 

He shifted the weight on his footing, a grin that formed only widening as he seemed to be plotting something diabolical.

 

“I'll see you around, then, princess. May pay you another visit, again.” He sealed his leave with a kiss that left you wanting - _wanting_ **_more_** _._ And he damn well **fucking** knew it.

 

The way his beard lightly grazed the surface of your skin, a wholly effort of restraining that made you weak at the knees. He stole the very image of calling head over heels for the bad boy. You always found yourself whisked away by their charm and their undisclosed advances.

 

_How can you be so gullible to every goddamn thing he does? He can tell you to jump off a bridge, and you just might listen. He could hold a gun to your head and compel you to manifest every single grain that composed you as a human being._

 

 _All in that moment, kid, he cou_ _ld do_ **_just_ ** _that._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
And you just might let him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the slow escalation!! We are getting there, folks! Bear with me lmao. but I'm hella hyped tbh
> 
> Nevertheless, hope you all have a happy holiday, wherever you are!! Enjoy and be safe, lovies! And as always, stay gold ❤❤


	14. Cliché

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You're like a broken record or some shit, kid. Always going for that one guy that'll turn your world inside out and rightside in. You like that?_

_Another day, another dollar -_ as the saying goes. Slowly redeeming the points from your base number of zero, you grew to appreciate the taste of food more and more each time you hopped on line. Whether it was curry with rice to whatever dish that appeared to be on the menu these days happened to be a godsend to your stomach. Though, there was that _one_ time where there was an expired ingredient that surely made more than a few people ill to their stomachs. Let's just say, the kitchen staff were reprimanded for their stomach-churning, food poisoning. And thankfully, you weren't a part of that party of ill-stricken individuals hugging the porcelain thrones or metal rims.

 

All jokes aside, your work definitely earned your keep, getting back on track in no time flat. Within the current week, Negan found himself visiting almost every night. No one would ask the man why he'd always stop by at the most ungodly hour, especially when asking if you were around - if you were even in there to begin with. When you weren't, he'd dip out the moment someone mentioned your absence. Some days, you were on kitchen duty. Other times, you'd find yourself on a run with Simon and some others. Either way, Negan would find himself only seeking you.

 

The funny thing about that is, well, no one _dared_ to question _why_ he always wanted to see you. But, isn't it fucking obvious? You'd always catch him watching you, and the bastard wouldn't even look away. There would be that stretched-out, toothy fucking grin that even the devil would be proud of, an expression all too memorable yet mesmerizing. Even Maron finally caught on, with what Drew kept insinuating for the _longest_ time since you two arrived at Sanctuary.

 

_“Now, I see why Negan has taken a fancy to our lovely, little pot.”_

 

_“..Dude, the actual fuck? You call my sister a little pot?”_

 

_“What? It's a form of endearment. Live a little, Drew.”_

 

But when you would find yourself in the domain of arms, you started growing closer to Lani as the days went by.

 

She’d never leave your side, only to be turned over to Drew and Margaux when you were busying yourself with whatever assignment was addressed.

 

Curious brown eyes would watch you as you torched several pieces of metal to form bases. Even when you're cleaning off the your rifle, she'd always be tucked at your side with whatever toy Drew purchased from commissary. She was like fucking velcro, but she was adorable as shit. So you didn't mind one bit.

 

And when Negan would show his face, he would always be the honest gentleman and bring over a plush for Lani, just so he could see you smile. As genuine as it was, you were cautious about his approaches.

 

It was normally when you’d be closing up shop, that he'd manifest himself and peer over your shoulder like a lost shadow, unsure on whether or not he should attach himself to you or just give you your personal space - _whatever he considered was_ **_personal_ ** _space_. You weren't putting up a fight when his lips would drift to your ear, a hand snaking around your waist.

 

 _What the hell was this guy even doing? What, are you some sort of booty call? Do people even say that these days? Minimal, you'd guess. Anyway, you some cuddle buddy? All fluff and shit, little kisses here and there, soft touches and all that mumbo jumbo. What kind of bull is this? He has six or seven wives, for God's sake. He's just_ **_using_ ** _you. To think that, maybe, he wants to get in bed with you? Good_ **_lord_** _, give it a rest. Quit while you're ahead._

 

This time around, the two of you were lounging on the couch that was up against the wall a good yard or so away from your worktable. The seating gave you a bit of leisure instead of the stiff metal on your tailbone.

 

You sat cross-legged on the couch, sock-footed feet tucked under your legs. A draft found itself in the armory, so settling for the cross-stitch throw blanket now strewn across you and Negan was the best sort of warmth that could be offered. You were wearing a pair of pastel pink shorts that didn't help much. _Fucking idiot._

 

“I want you and Thing 2 to give the grand tour of our beloved Sanctuary, for that family that we brought in.”

 

You were twiddling with one of the rings on your necklace, breaking away from the train of thought you forgot you were on. You didn't meet his eyes even you spoke, just kept fiddling with the jewelry around your neck. “Wha-? Oh, yeah. Sure, yeah I can do that.”

 

Negan couldn't even bother to point out you were thinking about _something_ , so he decided to veer off onto another topic of interest.

 

“Y’know, you never told me about those rings hanging on your chain. Parents’ wedding rings or some shit?”

 

_Just the mere thought of those fuckers makes your blood boil, but was soon simmering to a standstill as your heart clenched._

 

He slowly hooked an arm around your shoulders like that cheesy trick people would try at the movies, bringing you closer than you already were to him. You relaxed against him, closing your eyes. _Just take a deep breath, kid. Deep breath. Breathe._

 

“Shit, I..did I hit a nerve or something? Fuck, I'm sorry. Just, just forget I said anyth--”

 

“--his name was Saul.”

 

 _There goes that silent cloud surrounding you._ _However, this one seemed to have a bit more tension than necessary._

 

“He..he was my husband,” you added, daring a look to Negan's face. The man was..digesting your confession. If the man wasn't thinking over shit, you'd think Sanctuary would fall without his say so.

 

The fact that he was being considerate in his advances to learn more about you, especially about late lovers, was an intriguing change of pace. There was a lot of spiteful expectations on the man's behavior that you were hoping weren't going to burst a pipe or two. It wasn't like _Negan_  to keep this up for this long, interpreting his fascination with every winding turn on every bend you sent him through.

 

“..how old are you, again, sweetheart?”

 

“Legal.”

 

His eyebrows furrowed in scrutiny, clearly not buying it.

 

“..I’m 20, if that helps you sleep at night.”

 

Well, the look of critical contempt was traded off for a more solemn feature. “..This, uh..This Saul fella..” He was treading on some mighty thin ice, but you were going to fess up since it seemed he has taken an interest, as of lately. He wasn't gone throw you a pity party and be on his merry way. _You're quite the dumbass, kid - if you haven't noticed already._

 

“He's dead. He's been dead for two years, now.”

 

“Oh..Um..my fucking condolences, I guess. Um,” he paused to scratch the back of his head, clearing his throat, “was he Luna’s dad?”

 

“Yeah, yeah he was. The both of them died at the same time.” Your voice never wavered, but you did feel your chest start to constrict and pull at every heart string you had. “There was..there was so much blood. But, Luna was the first to go before Saul. They..They wanted to watch us suffer. Me, more than anyone else. And, remember when I had my hallucination and went to a dark place?”

 

“Yeah..”

 

“The guy..His name was Clark Lenox. He is - or was - a former mob boss, known as _The Butcher_. The sick fuck, he..he wanted to take so much from us. My parents were a part of his drug cartel. My father was a manufacturer as well as a supplier. As for my mother, she was a user. I still wonder how my brother and I were conceived, with how my mother was using that shit like it was going out of style. That's beside the point, though. They were the best of friends with him. And somehow, Clark was always in my life. In _our_ lives. Whenever I'd babysit Drew and Jess, when my parents would be out, Clark would always make time to _visit._  Those visits..well, they did quite a number on me.”

 

The grip around you was, once, reassuring. Instead, Negan was seeing red. The information was doing a piss-poor job at binding down any regretful words he might spit out. He knew if he said anything, it might just trigger you. So he refrained from making any sudden statements.

 

“When I told Saul about it, he was fucking furious. He was close to killing Clark, but he knew he'd get the short end of the stick and I'd be left alone. Either way, shit happened..Nothing could've been prevented. But, again, I'm rambling. Sorry.”

 

“No, no you're fine. You're fine, don't worry.” His touch loosened up a fraction, rubbing your shoulder in a comforting manner.

 

He thought over what he would say next, but you decided to take the reins again. “Since, um..since I told you bits and pieces about myself, how about you tell me a bit about Lucille?” _Now,_ ** _you_** _were the one that was treading on thin ice._ _You might as well break the ice, while you're at it. Take a plunge, catch hypothermia. Lose that warm feeling for a little bit. Okay, a whole lot._

 

You expected Negan to blatantly ignore your question, deeming it too personal for his tastes. Somehow, his eyes lit up just barely, a smirk forming at his lips.

 

“She was..she was a lovely woman. Had a fucking mouth on her. Loved that about her. And, man, did she have some wicked skills. Fucking had the hands of a fucking _God_. Like she had the Midas _fucking_ touch. Whatever dish she'd make was a mouth-watering masterpiece. Rather her than me, she was a fixer-upper. Knew how to put shit together, dismantle the fuck out of it, and then piece it back together like it was a sixth sense. Aside from the good times, I'd always be messing shit up with her. That comes with being married to the love of your life, I'm guessing.”

 

You couldn't suppress the hearty chuckle that escaped you, shaking your head in amusement.

 

“It’s true. That's how it is.”

 

“Yeah..But, ‘till this day, I wonder how the fuck I went wrong..When she got sick, cancer and fuckall. Fuck, man..fuck.” He carded his fingers through his hair, strands coming undone from the loss of the gel holding the hairstyle together.

 

A frown placed itself at your lips, reaching hand over to caress the man's now cleanly shaven cheek. As smooth as it could be, you cupped his cheek to further press your affections.

 

“Life just..takes away the things we love. That's just how it is. I didn't want to see three quarters of my family die, but I had to. You didn't want to see Lucille kick the bucket, but you had to. We grow from all that rough shit we go through. It's hard, but it's something we gotta accept to move on. Cliché as fuck, but it's the God honest truth.”

 

You kept up your ministrations for a while, the two of you staring at one another. You were just a breath away from him, your lips almost touching his.

 

_And there was that look, again. Like he was deeply, madly in love with you, but it was a secret to the world - an open letter just for you. You're a fucking cliché, kid. Jesus fucking Christ._

 

His eyes became slits, closing the tiny gap between the pair of you to seal your lips with his. He didn't even bother to stop and think, going straight for the action. A wandering hand dove back underneath the blanket to cup the underside of your thigh, the other snaking around your waist as he lowered you down onto your back so he could further the session.

 

Small whimpers were stolen by the man's soft affections. He wasn't being ravenous; taking what was his. No, he wasn't in the slightest. He was being as gentle as could be. Velvety nips at your lips, to whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

 

_Marry me, sweetheart. You're so beautiful. Just marry me, sweetheart. You're the one for me._

  
  
  
  
  
_How cliché can you fucking get?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, lovelies!
> 
> Apologies in advance for the late update. This was originally supposed to be an additional Christmas update, but I didn't have the proper motivation until just now. So, huzzah ma boos~
> 
> But I hoped you enjoy this chapter! Stay gold ❤


	15. Strike Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Really, kid?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for racial slurs and slight body negativity.
> 
> Also, additional tags are now listed!!

“The fact that he walked you back to our room is pretty gentlemanly of him.”

 

“Drew, shut the fuck up. Please.”

 

It was well past 7am, and Drew was already on his fifth cup of coffee. _Tasted like fucking motor oil, to the highest fucking degree._

 

You two were making your way to the farthest end of the dormitories to give the arrival of a new family for a grand tour.

 

“So, did you guys, like, make out on your couch?”

 

If you could claw your eyeballs out of your skull and feed it to your kid brother, you might have done it. Dying of embarrassment was one thing, but giving in to your brother's interrogation about your.. _What the fuck would you even consider you and Negan? Cuddle buddies? Touchy-touchy, feely-feely rendezvous hodgepodge? Eh. Drew can live vicariously as much as he damn well pleases._

 

“What did I **fucking** say? Shut. The. Fuck. U--”

 

You didn't realize Drew had already knocked on the door, revealing a tall, young man adorning a baseball shirt, a pair of jeans, and some sort of brand on his neck. “Uh? Hello?”

 

“--Shit, hi. I'm sorry, good morning. My name is (Y/N), and this is my kid brother, Drew.” You thumbed in the direction of your brother, who waved towards the man at the door frame like goddamn dork.

 

“We're your welcoming party! And, also, your tour guides and tips specialists.”

 

You quirked an eyebrow at the last bit, glancing over to Drew. “The fuck you mean, tips specialists?”

 

“You know.” Drew began waving his hands around, trying make an implication. Not doing the best job at doing so. “We gotta give them the low down, and shit.”

 

“Uncle Javi, who's there?” A young teen strode over to flank his uncle's side, a red beanie set atop of a headful of auburn hair.

 

“The welcoming party, mijo. (Y/N) and Drew, right?” he looked over to his nephew before looking at the both of you. A pair of matching nods knocked your heads in as two more people came into view. A young woman with hair tied back into a ponytail and a young girl with a headband, by the looks of it.

 

“I’m sorry, forgot to tell you guys our names. This is my nephew, Gabriel,” he cocked his head to the left to motion the said boy's presence. “My niece, Mariana. My sister-in-law, Kate. And I'm Javier Garcia. People call me Javi.”

 

“Wow, big family. More than what we've seen here in awhile. Anyway, I'm glad you guys are here. I'm going to give you the basics of how everything's run here before someone else tells you otherwise. But first, did you guys eat?” The way the family almost huddled towards you like a meerkat gang wasn't astonishing.

 

As if on cue, a stomach growled amongst the small group, everyone looking pointedly at Mariana.

 

“..what? I can't control it.”

 

“Welp, hungry stomachs means the dining hall will be our first stop. Let's get a move on, folks. New arrivals get free meals for the first week. And don't forget your keys to your room. If you guys need to make copies, just hand them over to us and we'll get them molded and pressed out for you guys by the end of the day.” Drew started making his way down the hall, the two children jogging after the big oaf.

 

“That'd be great, thanks,” said Kate, following suit of her children.

 

She sounded skeptical. Could you blame her? New place, new rules? The New World Order was set in motion for this family, and you are going to have to remind them of their duties and actions would come at a cost.

 

“So, how long have you two been here for?” Javier asked, locking his room up as he trailed after you.

 

“Almost a year? Can't keep track of time, these days.”

 

“You're telling me. We've been on the road for as long as we can remember. We were shacked up in a junkyard, some assholes cornering us in the trailer. But your men showed up and killed them all off.”

 

“Not my men.”

 

“What?”

 

“The ones who found you and your family? That's Negan's men. As I was gonna tell y'all, Negan is the leader of this place. It's called Sanctuary. It's a fucking big-ass warehouse. I'm not sure if they bagged your heads with potato sacks or anything that might have misconstrued your trip.” When you looked up to Javier, a deadpanned expression was met with your delighted one.

 

“Had us fucking zip-tied and bagged in the back of a van. Your welcome was a walk in the park, compared to his men shoving us into a room that could be _just_ for me.”

 

“At least you weren't duct-taped. Drew and I had the pleasure of our skin almost being ripped clean off with the way they handled us. But, you're here, anyway. As well as us.”

 

The two of you rounded the corner, the sound of conversations circulating the air and shuffling feet against the cement floor. The kids and their mother were already on line, with Drew close behind so he could elicit the new arrival orders.

 

Majority of the dining hall tables were occupied, save for the loose seats scattered across the vast proximity.

 

“Wow. There's a lot of people here.”

 

“Yep. I think we're at a hundred ninety-something occupants? Maybe two hundred? Have to ask Simon. Ahh, yes. Simon is the right-hand man to Negan. You'll probably see them around. I'll fill you in on more when we grab us a table.”

 

The breakfast crowd was speeding by more than usual. Talks of supply runs and weekly pick-ups from the neighboring compounds was in order.

 

You managed to snag a free table as Drew sauntered over with two trays in his hands, the Garcia's following in tow. The seats were a mixture of different chairs found over hunts. From wooden chairs to metal fold outs, they were as good as any. And once everyone got to sit down, you didn't hesitate to inform them about their new _lives._ Not the most monumental discussion to have, but they were going to have to abide by it if they wanted to live with a gun to their head, a knife to their neck. Because, god forbid someone messes up, then the whole lot of them were  _fucked._

 

“Long story short, you guys belong to Negan, now. I know it isn't the most tasteful pill to swallow, but swallow you most certainly will.” You dropped a few octaves before you continued, even with if the entirety of the mess hall was loud as shit. “You answer to him. You provide for him. You belong to him. That's the New World Order. If you wanna survive, just accept the fact that not everyone here has the best intentions.”

 

“Are you fucking serious? What the fuck!? We aren't fucking bitches on leashes! That's fucking bullshit!” The abruptness from Gabriel was a bit unnerving, wandering eyes from other tables honing in on the conversation.

 

“Gabriel, be quiet. Please. Just listen to her,” Kate gritted out, shooting a glance his way.

 

“No! Fuck off, Kate! This isn't how our lives are supposed to fucking work! We are supposed to be free fucking people, with free fucking will. Not some fucking asshole that think it's okay to bring us in like fucking strays.”

 

“Gabriel,” Javi gritted out, clearly frustrated for his nephew's outburst. “Calm the fuck down, buddy. We don't want to cause any trouble.”

 

“Oh, no trouble at all!” The familiar voice came up right behind your chair, a gloved hand on your shoulder as he squeezed the junction there, tenderly. “Now, are these the Fresh Over the Border, Mexican special?”

 

“Jesus fucking christ,” Drew muttered under his breath, cupping his face.

 

“What the fuck do you mean, Mexican special? You racist fuck,” Gabriel uttered, bearing his teeth towards the older man like some riled up dog.

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Watch how you're fucking talking to me, baby anchor. No one mouths off to me like that unless they're fucking asking for it.” Negan leveled the end of Lucille to Gabriel’s face, which rendered a mortified expression on the boy.

 

“Please, he..he's just scared. It's a new place, and he's not used to being a part of a community. We all aren't.” Kate stared at the man with a pleading expression, clearly hoping he wouldn't bash her step-son’s head in. One could only defend someond in  _this_ community before they end up on rougher end of the ordeal. There was a shitton of fear in her eyes, placing a protective arm across Gabriel's chest to fully prove her case.

 

“My, oh my. What's _your_ name, pretty girl?” Now, you didn't need to see the fucker's expression to know that he was fucking flirting. Anyone with an attractive face meant they worth _something_ in Negan's eyes.

 

 _Were you really fucking jealous? Are you fucking serious?...Yeah, you're serious. You had to be kidding yourself, thinking that whatever shit he was whispering in your ear was gonna amount to anything but to another ever-growing pile of fucking shit. He ain't worth it, now._ ** _You_ ** _sure as hell ain't gonna amount to anything. Fucking wasting your time with - whatever the fuck this is._

 

You took the liberty of excusing yourself from the table, acting as if the hand on your shoulder fucking burned you -  _it could have damn well did._ Not even turning the other cheek, and you already had Negan turning your way without hesitation.

Negan watched you walk off, lowering Lucille to his side. The tables surrounding yours averted their attention back to their normal chatter.

 

“My name is Kate. Just, please, don't hurt my step-son.”

 

“Wasn't planning on it,” he uttered, his eyes set on you. “But he should really learn to have some goddamn, fucking manners when he's around me.” He made it a point to turn his gaze back to the table. “If they haven't done you the favor of making the introductions on who fucking runs this place, let it be known. I'm Negan, and I don't take kindly to people spouting out whatever comes to fucking mind, ‘cause I'll surely have the pleasure of ripping out his tongue, if he so much as does it again. You fucking get me?”

 

A round of eager nods was what he was met with, but it wasn't enough. It'd never be enough. “I don't think you guys heard me right.” The grip on Lucille’s shaft grew tighter, an unfurling rage pooling at the pit of his stomach. “If he so much as fucking mouths off to me or decides that this life ain't for him, I will rip his fucking tongue out, maybe carve out his insides, and serve him to the fuckers outside. Maybe _then_ he'll learn some fucking manners. You fucking **_get that_**?”

 

“Yes, sir.” Even with the unison response, Gabriel was shaking in his boots. His palms were sweaty and eyes were tearing up at the mere threat that wasn't an empty one.

 

Like two sides of a coin, the man grinning from ear to ear instead of gutting Gabriel from across the table. “Good! Glad we understand each other. Now, if you'll excuse me.” Slinging Lucille over his shoulder, he padded over to the drink station as you were filling up two full glasses of bug juice for you and your brother.

 

He came up behind you, dropping Lucille to his side. “Why'd you walk away like that?”

 

_The prick has the audacity to be clueless? Wow, man. Fucking golden._

 

“Why don't you ask the pretty, Mexican special over there. She'd probably do you loads of good.”

 

He stared at the back of your head like there was a goddamn hilarity show going on that you didn't fucking know about, bursting out in belly-gripping laughter.

 

“I'm glad you fucking find this amusing.”

 

“It fucking is! Come on, now. You really gonna be like this?”

 

You turned around to glare at the man through your thick frames, clearly disinterested in his attempts to find this entertaining.

 

“Sweetheart, you can't be fucking jealous. Come the fuck _on._ ”

 

“Yeah, I'm fucking jealous. It's not just her, you fuck.”

 

The way he was staring at you was like you grew two fucking heads in the course of a few seconds, but then the realization hit him hard. A grimace displaced his features, his frown lines becoming more prominent than ever.

 

“Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me. I ain't having this fucking conversation with you. Fucking bullshit, man.” He stormed off, leaving you by the drink station without a second glance. The Garcia's carried on with their meal, Drew's eyes drifting from Negan's brooding leave to your retreating form.

 

“The fuck happened?” he asked once you came over.

 

“Nothing. Don't worry about it.”

  
_Kid, you're fucking ridiculous. You really think he'll give that up? His_ **_entire_ ** _life up for you? That's a million to one chance, so you're shit outta fucking luck. Fucking told you he was using you, but you don't fucking listen. Fucking fatass bitch. He was fucking wasting his time with you. Just pull out Saul's gun and make an effort to pull the trigger. You're wasting precious time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, loves!!
> 
> it is close to 6am and I was like _ya know what? Fuck it, lemme post a chapter_ so huzzah, here I am (:
> 
> As always, Stay Gold ❤❤


	16. Improbable

Between the tour and settling into Sanctuary, the Garcia's were already on their way to earning their share of _paradise_.

 

The adjustment period was tough, and still is. Gabriel had been making matters difficult, and so Javier took the blame for the temporary messes he found his nephew in. Cuts and bruises, a few gashes here and there. Gabriel was furious, and yet he couldn't help the fact that he was fucking terrified. Though, Drew reassured him that things will become easier as time goes on.

 

“We've been here a week, man. Having Negan's men breathing down our necks. I didn't think being a man meant having to deal with this crap.”

 

“You and me both, brother. Had to grow up pretty fast when we were brought here. Like I said before, this shit ain't gonna be easy. But you gotta be strong.” Drew was trying to make a point, especially when it came to specifying the loyalties of family. “You have to be strong for your mom, your sister, your uncle--”

 

“--She's not my mom, man. She isn't,” Gabriel retorted, sanding down one of the jagged metal pieces for future prototypes in the armory.

 

The two teenagers were housed up at your worktable, sifting through the slabs of metal sheets brought in on a supply run. Some ranged in thickness and some in length. Some weren't the best of quality, but Drew could manage.

 

“Listen, man. Mom or not, she's _someone_ who you go home to...Dude, you're lucky. You got dealt a good hand. Not everyone has someone to look out for them. I'm grateful enough I have my sister. Without her, I don't think I'd be able to survive on my own.” Drew looked up from his own pile, noting that Gabriel stopped to actually listen to the full content of what he had to say.

 

In the course of the past few months, Drew’s hair had grown to the lengths of his shoulders. You've offered him time, and time again, if he wanted a trim to get the dead ends out of the way. But he wouldn't have it. He accepted his growing hair by tying it up into a topknot just so it didn't interfere with his task. And as if currently, the hair tie was doing its job.

 

“She...gives me a purpose. That's how we keep going. The world, as it is right now, it's a fucking shitshow. Without anything to keep us alive, you really begin to lose the sense of humanity. Dude, the banality of it all, appreciate what you got before it's too late.”

 

After that day, Gabriel kept Drew's words in mind. He knew he needed to be strong for his family, as they are for him. Coming to the full acceptance was going to be tough, but he wasn't alone. And he knew that, too.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Even as the week passed, you didn't bother to confront Negan. Nor did he bother to stop by the armory on the nights you were in.

 

_He got the message, huh? Ahh well, whatever. You're better off, anyway, kid. A guy like that is a fucking heartbreaker. Why, you fell so goddamn hard for a man like that, you'll never know. You're a goddamn idiot, that's for sure._

 

 _But, deep, deep down, you_ **_know_** _. Can't you just give this one up?_

 

You left the closing shift to Maron, joining your brother in your shared room to - _could you believe it_ \- to relax, in the comfort of your bed.  _At a decent time, too._

 

Lani was at Margaux's for the night, giving the two of you enough time to rest rather than coaxing the young girl to sleep heaps.

 

“So,” Drew said over a mouthful of chips, crunching away. “You gonna tell me what happened last week?”

 

“What do you mean?” _Playing dumb isn't gonna win you any favors. And brushing your hair to try to avoid that question isn't gonna help, either._

 

“(Y/N). You know what happened.” He popped another chip into his mouth. “...And I'm not stupid. You've been looking at that door, hoping he'd come in. What the fuck happened?”

 

Steering clear of this was proving to be your worst enemy, and your brother shouldn't have to be the one to prodding at you with a wooden branch. Though, how else were going to get on it you didn't get this shit off your chest? _You might as well._

 

“Drew, it's just..why did I have to go after some asshole like him? Dude, look at me. I'm a shitty installment for whatever he thought would be the most interesting piece of work he could sink his teeth in.”

 

_God, you sound like a goddamn school girl with a crush. Oh, boohoo, he doesn't like you. You're the fatso with glasses with no idea how to flirt for shit, and you decided to fall for the bad-boy who was **way** out of your fucking league. You're living the D-list teen romance/drama you always wanted._

 

“Okay, hold up.” He set his small bag of chips aside, crawling down his bed towards yours. He held a finger up to prove himself. “Hold the fuck up.”

 

An incredulous expression coloured your features, your brother now sitting pretzel legs in front of you. Before you could get a word in, he flicked your forehead with the aid of his middle finger and his thumb.

 

“Ow! The fuck, man!? Rude-ass..” You rubbed at your temples. _Asshole.._

 

“What did I tell you?”

 

“I'm being fucking realistic. You've seen his wives, man! Come on! I ain't ever gonna have a size four body and racks like them. With these stretch marks and fucking scars, man. Shit ain't fucking attractive.”

 

“(Y/N), c'mon. He saw right through those issues and genuinely likes you. I see it.”

 

“Drew, don't try to--”

 

“I ain't trying _shit_ , (Y/N). He wouldn't go out of his way to look for you when you're away. He wouldn't be giving Lani those plushies if it didn't make you smile. He wouldn't have put in the time and effort to be alone with you every chance he got.”

 

_What was Drew's point in this? Was he defending Negan? Was he trying to make you see reason? Was your dumbass of a brother trying to coax you into thinking that maybe Negan isn't all that bad? That's what you were gathering._

 

“..where are you going with this, Drew?”

 

He thought for a good few seconds, before reaching over to remove your glasses, setting them onto your lap.

 

“...Can't see worth shit,” you said under your breath.

 

“(Y/N)..you know, he's not like Saul. He'll _never_ be Saul.”

 

“Bruh, don't you think I know that? No one's gonna replace Saul. Not now, not ever. But...Negan isn't like Saul.”

 

“But he's as close to Clark, from what we've experienced.” _Now,_ **_that_ ** _was a low blow._

 

“Drew, you take that back. Negan is nowhere near as dangerous as Clark.”

 

“The fuck do you mean!? (Y/N), Negan _slapped_ you. He fucking **_slapped_ ** you, man--”

 

“--and what? Dude, that's nothing, compared to what Clark did to me; to _us._ He took **everything** from us. That fucker took Jess,” you started counting the names on your finger, “Luna, Saul, and our unborn child. Drew, he fucking killed your niece or nephew in cold blood. Man…” You dragged an open palm across your face, eliciting a shaky breath.

 

_Well, you got your brother to shut his trap. He's looking at ya like a scared, little boy. Come on, you gotta feel bad about that. And of course you are._

 

_You're his sister. You're all he has._

 

_Sixteen years old and no father figure to look up to, and the only maternal figure he looks up to the most might as well be a kid herself. Yes - you, you dumbass._

 

Even with the trimmed facial hair and large stature, he was _still_ your baby brother. The baby brother that _still_ annoys the shit out of you. Nosing about your love life. Being overprotective of you. There will never be a dull moment when he's around, and he would make sure of it. And when times got rough, he was there. Like you, any sacrifice he'd make was for family. Because without family, you two wouldn't be the same.

 

“Tsk..c’mere.” You held your arms out, soon being engulfed by Drew's hulking form. “Jesus fucking Christ, man. Ease off the Wheaties.”

 

“Fucking shut up.” he chuckled.

 

The embrace lasted for a while, the two of you breaking away to settle back into your spots. You looked down to the frames in your lap, fiddling with the temple tips.

 

“...Drew.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“He told me..about Lucille. Well, I..persuaded him by telling him about my history and so..it was only fair.”

 

“Oh. Cool, um..” You could tell your brother was trying to process the information, since no one in the entire community knew of Negan's past life; before the apocalypse even occurred. “That's a..start.”

 

“Yeah..I'm hoping so..”

  
_You're falling way too hard. He could be fucking one of his wives right now, and you'd still go after like hotcakes. You're a mess, kid. But, at least your brother is slowly accepting Negan's impact. Even if it isn't the best influence, as of lately._

 

_If Drew can accept it, maybe you should, too._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest with y'all, I wanna be confident and say this was another great chapter, but I think this one was shitty :/
> 
> Tho, don't mind my pessimistic outlook on it. What'd you guys think? I hoped you enjoyed it! And as always, stay gold ❤❤


	17. Null

“Skip.”

 

“Are we really playing this? Why can't we play Blackjack or Spit?”

 

“Because not _everybody_ wants to play that, Drew,” Maron retorted. He smirked down towards his cards, laying them out on your worktable. “Read ‘em and weep.”

 

“..you're a fucking idiot for ever using that line,” Drew said, tossing his cards towards Maron as they flew every which way.

 

“I've grown fond of this game. Should play it more often.”

 

“I'm not playing anymore. Fucking hate this game. I lose every goddamn time.” Like your brother, you threw the cards in Maron's direction as he flipped the both of you off.

 

“That's what you get for teaching an old dog new tricks.”

 You mocked the older man for his statement, only to have him keep the middle finger standing for you.

“You've been quiet,” Drew said, taking a swig of his beer as he eyed Javier.

 

The man had stacked his cards together in his hands, tapping the end against the table.

 

“Just been thinking.”

 

“Thinking? Come on, man. No thinking shit over. It's a night to relax. Enjoy the festivities and shit.” Drew held up his beer to commemorate the activity before taking another drag.

 

“And this is a rare occasion to see my baby brother drink. And I do mean **rare**.”

 

You weren't condoning the underage drinking, but another successful batch of bullets without any harmed hands was a good night for a celebratory card game. Even if Phase 10 was sort of nerdy. _Okay, it really was. But fuckall, if it wasn't fun as shit and aggravating as fuck at the same time._

 

“Please, save me the second-hand embarrassment. I'm not a baby.” He wiggled his finger your way, a pout on his lips.

 

“Mhmm, okay. Keep talking, kid. Now, where's your buddy?” Speaking of Vinny, the man was taking his sweet-ass time in the bathroom. The lot of you had completed four rounds already, and he still wasn't back. “He get lost or some shit?”

 

“I dunno.” Drew shrugged, throwing back the last of his beer and tossing the bottle into the blue recycling bin under the table. He reached for another one, only to have his hand smacked away by a returning one.

 

“No more for you, kid,” Vinny ordered, taking the seat between you and your brother. “You may be big and macho, but you're still _just_ a kid.”

 

“Aww, why do you guys gotta be such party-poopers. Always raining on my goddamn parade. I didn't ask to be _this_ big. I mean, I am _pretty_ gifted.” Drew had two index fingers directed to the clothed bulge between his legs.

 

“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ. Someone please shoot me, right now. Please, my ears are bleeding.” You laid your head on top of the table, Drew’s hoodie being pulled over your head by the help of Maron. Patting your head, he folded his arms against his chest as he watched Drew unfold.

 

“What? You talk about--” Drew couldn't even finish his sentence without Maron literally reaching for one of the pretzels in the plastic bowl at the center table - which stood to be used as poker chips - and shoving the snack into the teen's mouth to shut him up.

 

Fortunately, there wasn't any complaints by the young man. Just a disgruntled look as he slumped in his chair.

 

“Well, like I was saying,” Drew said through a mouthful, “I'm pretty well-endowed. I mean, Vinny.”

 

The said man's eyes perked up, along with _very_ intrigued faces of yourself, Javier, and Maron.

 

“Yeah, kid?” Vinny couldn't tell what the hell Drew was thinking, but he knew the amount of intoxication was making the youth much more looser and out of his closed shell.

 

“If anything, I think you'd enjoy a nice night with me. With the way you wear those tight-ass pants like your dad, I bet your ass looks a whole lot better without ‘em. You're hot, I'm hot. And you look like you need a hard-fucking.”

 

Everyone's jaw must've dropped to the floor with the way your brother was being so goddamn casual, like he's been hanging around Negan too damn much was starting to freak you the fuck out. And not to mention that you're hearing this shit coming out of his mouth?

 

_Wow. You can't tell if you should be proud of him or be smacking him upside the head for being so vulgar, especially over someone that may be a potential somebody._

 

“Well, then.” Vinny flushed a shade of red, which earned a few snickers for his fortune.

 

“And that is enough alcohol for you, my friend. I'm putting this shit back in the fridge, putting a lock on it.” Maron didn't think twice as he even poured out everyone else's down the sink, that was stationed not too far from the first aid cabinet, including yours.

 

When Maron came back, Vinny was on his way with an arm hooked around Drew's waist, your brother’s arm wrap around Vinny’s shoulders.

 

“Uh, I don't think it's a good idea for them to--”

 

“Don't worry, Vinny’s just taking him back to our room.”

 

_That's what you were hoping for. Vinny had a right head on his shoulders, but your brother clearly didn't. There were the rare occasions when there was alcohol in Drew’s system. Those times, you had to drag him off before he caused shit to hit the fan. Times like now, you hoped Vinny didn't take advantage of your little brother, nor vice versa._

 

“Ahh..alright, then.” The skepticism was clear on his face. Though, he half-accepted the response as he folded up the metal, vacant chairs and leaned them up with the rest of them. “Anyway, I'm going to turn in for the night. You two going to be all right?”

 

“Yeah, we'll be fine. I'll see you tomorrow, Mare.” You saluted the man on your knees, Javier aiding you to collect the last of the cards on the floor.

 

“Likewise, you lot.” Maron reciprocated, heading for the exit.

 

Once the door was shut, the stillness in the air lasted for a bit, only to be disturbed by the shuffling against the floor as you and Maron got to your feet.

 

“That was rather..entertaining.”

 

“Please excuse my brother's behavior. He's not like that at all. As you've already seen prior, he's a fucking lug. Fucking dork, man. And he's also a fucking history buff. That doesn't help how he acted tonight, which I can only apologize so much for.”

 

Javier chortled. “It's fine, don't worry about it. Kate and I smoke weed. Shit gets outta hand, and..well.”

 

“Shit happens.”

 

_Okay, firstly, how the hell did you guys get, like, uber close? Yeah, y'all were picking up the cards and shit. But he was like not even a foot away from you? Jeez, he's really attractive up close._

 

 _Why did you let your brother invite him to game night? Alright, secondly, game night consisted of a nerdy-ass game involving numbers and runs. Need you say more? You wish it didn't sound_ **_that_ ** _stupid. Sounds like it, though._

 

“No doubt about that,” he interjected, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

 

“Yeah..” You looked down to the floor, toeing your sneaker into one particular spot to avoid his eyes.

 

“..listen, (Y/N). I, uh..I know we only just met last week and all..But, uh..”

 

 _Well,_ **_this_ ** _is new._

 

You felt his hand curve under your chin, the pads of his fingers against your cheek as he made you meet his gaze. “I was..wondering if you'd like to..I don't know..go on date with me?”

 

 _Now,_ **_this_ ** _was definitely fucking new. Well, what do you think?_

 

“LIKE HELL SHE IS. WHO THE **FUCK** DO YOU THINK YOU FUCKING ARE!?”

 

It didn't even process until bodies hit the floor, the sound of heavy blows being rained down onto the Javier's face.

 

The familiar black leather was enough for you to bring you to your senses, immediately grasping the jacket in a pleading manner. You went for a more reasonable approach, whilst the next wasn't going to be as kind.

 

“NEGAN, GET THE **FUCK** OFF OF HIM! THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?” You felt your body rear back when Negan pushed you away, sending more jabs towards the poor man's now bloody face.

 

Sure enough, the sound of the hammer being cocked alerted Negan as harsh, fluid-like breathing escaped Javier. Just like the day Negan decided to beat on your brother for your mistake, his hands were as red as they could be. Clenched fists, heavy breathing. Blood spattered across the cement ground.

_What the fuck is wrong with him?_

  
“Get off. Of him, Negan. NOW.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa~ Shit, y'all, what the hell's going on??
> 
> Stay gold ❤❤


	18. Strike Three

“Now, let's not do anything we're gonna regret later, sweetheart.”

 

You kept the gun aimed at his head. “Shut the fuck up, Negan. You don't get to fucking talk. Fucking radio in Simon or some shit. Make them bring Javier to Carson.”

 

“Pfft.” Negan elicited a hearty laugh, slowly getting to his feet. “He can walk himself to the fucking infirmary. He ain't dead, so he can get up on his own two feet and start fucking walking. You and I gotta have a fucking civil conversation.” He turned on his heel,  pointing a bloodied finger towards you as he smirked.

 

Originally, your aim was held directly behind Negan's head. Now, it was focused right between his eyes.

 

“He can't even fucking move! What makes you think he's gonna be able to get to Carson!?”

 

“He'll find a way.” His eyes narrowed for a moment. You locked eyes with him, surveying for any sudden movements. You were met with none. Though, you lowered your gun at the thought of keeping some humanity that was left in you.

 

_Jeez, you really have gone soft. Well, as soft as you could get. You're pretty soft._

 

That gave Negan the advantage of swiping your gun away, setting it on safety before snaking an arm around your waist and pinning you to his side. He set the gun in a bin, covering it with a towel to conceal your weapon from wandering eyes. _What a gentleman._  Clearly, your attempts to struggle were futile as he began moving you away from an unconscious Javier on the floor.

 

“The fuck are you doing!? Give me my gun back, you fuckhead!” His grip grew into a vice, practically dragging you away to the exit. “LET GO OF ME! JAVIER NEEDS HELP!”

 

From what Negan thought was out of the _pure_ goodness of his heart for _you_ , he radioed in a request for Fat Joseph to carry Javier over to the hospital wing.

 

“Fucking happy now, princess?” Negan uttered once you were inside his room. He released you from his grasp, soon receiving a blow to his nose. “FUCK!” Blood began rushing down to his lips, throwing his head back as he held the bridge of his nose and pinched the area to suppress the blood flow.

 

Guilt soon pooled your stomach, looking around the room until you found a glass casing that housed a box of tissues inside. You pulled a few out and handed it over to the man, who readily shoved them up his nose with a hand still gripping the bridge.

 

“What the **fuck** is wrong with you?”

 

“ ** _Me_**? _Are you fucking_ **_serious_**?” He was close to removing his hand, though he didn't.

 

“Yeah, I'm fucking serious! Why the hell did you decide to fucking rain hell over Javi? He didn't do shi--”

 

“Oh, it's _Javi_ now, is it? Well, _sorry_ , princess. Didn't think you were interested in the fucker, ‘till he fucking got you alone.”

 

“He wasn't even gonna pull shit!”

 

“ **Bull**. **Shit**. I saw the way he was fucking looking at ya. Like some goddamn lap dog, just panting for attention.”

 

“Oh, and what does that make you? Some sort of show dog, with manners and obedience? The jury's still out on whether you're trying to prove some legitimate reason, for your case.”

 

_Damn, kid. This fire in you - it's unsettling._

 

“At least I've gotten my _Best In Show_ medal with the rest of my girls.”

 

_Welp, there he goes. Again. The door is right there, you know. Can just slip away, forget this ever happened._

 

“Know what, Negan? Fine. Whatever. What do you want me to say? You win? You want a gold star or something? ‘Cause I'm not gonna fucking stand here and listen to you try to make things worse for me and better for you.” You threw your hands up in surrender, agreeing with yourself to leave the room before things went haywire.

 

A sticky hand reached out for your wrist, turning you back around.

 

“Negan, fucking let go. I'm fucking serious, right now. I'm not in the mood for your fucking bullshit.”

 

“Do you like him?”

 

You should've expected the sudden interrogation, particularly the way he was swaying between the good cop/bad cop routine.

 

“Negan, what are you trying to do?”

 

“Just answer the fucking question. You fucking like him or not?”

 

“...yeah, I guess. What, you jealous?”

 

 _And_ **_that's_ ** _how all this shit fucking started. You told Negan you were jealous over the miniscule comment he made towards Kate, and then you dared to mention - scratch that,_ **_implied_ ** _\- his wives. And what does he do? He just storms off, leaving you in the dust._

 

His hand around your wrist loosened, dropping to his side. Supposedly, it was his turn to run away as he paced over to the carpeted area in front of his bed.

 

“Fuck off.”

 

“No, don't you,” you followed the man, keeping your temper at bay, “fucking try to make this shit easy for you. You had it easy.” You grabbed his arm, forcing him to face you. He had grabbed new tissues to plug up his nose, discarding the used ones in the trash bin near his dresser.

 

“You got to fucking walk away, Negan. You got to storm off and fuck one of your wives, man. Hell, maybe all of them. And what do I get? I got to fucking stay in the armory for the rest of the week, closing up shop. _Waiting_ for you. But, yeah, you--” You started to pace the room, “--you show up when Javi decides to ask me out on a date, deciding _Oh, let me bash his head. That'll prove how much I love her. Right_ , _right_. That was the best decision you made this whole week. Round of a-fucking-pplause.”

 

You began clapping, glaring Negan down as the sound reverberated against the walls.

 

_Did you take this shit too far?_

 

 _No, of course not. You did_ **_just_ ** _fine. He needed to hear this shit. What? How's he looking at you? He's speechless; he ain't saying shit. Maybe he finally gets the message. You know you did._

 

“..I didn't.”

 

“What? You didn't **what**?” The bitterness never left your voice.

 

“Look, I didn't fuck any of my wives this past week, alright? I fucking didn't...” He sounded so distant, like he was talking to a mirror. Just had a blank expression, however his brows were furrowed and there was storm in his eyes that he couldn't steer clear of.

 

 _Huh. Coming from him, there must've been something wrong_ **_down there_** _. You'd hear the gossip whenever his wives were out and about. What was the actual problem?_

 

“And why's that? Huh? Can't get it up? Need Viagra, old man?” You weren't going to play it off as a joke. He got you where he wanted you, so why not give it to him. You stalked over to him, coming chest to chest with the man. Rather, face to his chest. _Shorty._

 

Amidst his mind fog, he met your sights. “No.”

 

“Then, what is it?”

 

If only you prepared yourself for what he said next.  _Probably not._

 

 

 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
“Because they're not **you**.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, it's around 2am. Time for bed! Again, thank you to all the readers that support this fic. Makes my day all the more happier ❤❤ stay gold, y'all (:


	19. Home Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Welp. Ya did it, kid_

_“Because they're not_ **_you_** _.”_

 

 _What kind of bullshit was that? Kid, you better talk some sense into yourself if you think he really_ **_loves_ ** _you._

 

 _And oh, does he fucking_ **_love_ ** _you. He loves you if he means it. Don't think he means it, though. Just a little music to your ears. Just a guess._

 

“(Y/N). You in there?” You saw him in your peripherals, tapping the side of your head with two fingers.

 

_So, apparently, he - indirectly - fessed his love to you. Well, would you even call it that?_

 

Left speechless, your mouth was moving but no words slipped out.

 

_What could you even say to that? He doesn't mean what he said. Of course not. Why would he?_

 

_Well..look at yourself. You got a double chin that hid some sort of neck that never existed. You got a gut that hung a bit on the low side, along with the excess skin that hung under your biceps. Them fat rolls, man. What else is there to mention? Your imperfections portray such a beautiful nightmare you've wholly accepted without haste, and the fact he even said that shit to you? It was hard to believe it._

 

“Are you fucking listening to me?” It was like he was speaking to a brick wall, but shifted into a flowing curtain as you finally found your voice. More like it finally had the courage to fucking speak up.

 

“Negan. I..I hope you didn't just say that ‘cause you want to make me feel better _and_ that you just want to get in my fucking pants.” Brutal honesty was better than bottling that shit up. You were better off.

 

“Alright, first of all, what makes you think this is just for _your_ fucking benefit, sweetheart?”

 

When the man thought his nose had finally run its course with clotting the amount of blood flow, he pulled out the used tissue from his nostrils and tossed it into the garbage can. He turned back to you, a devilish smile slithering onto his face.

 

_What was he trying to accomplish?_

 

“I mean…isn't it obvious?”

 

He must've read your damn mind as he snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you up against himself. The pressing sound of leather lingered first, the smell coming in a close second. You saw the sultry look his eyes seemed to wager, your instant reaction of rosy cheeks becoming the bringer of bad news.

 

“ _Obvious_? Negan, I'm being fucking serious, here. You can't just shell shit out like that and expect me to believe you.” _That's a load of bull. You totally believe the shit that came out of his fucking mouth. How could you_ **_not_** _?_ “For fuck's sake, Negan. What the _fuck_ are you even thinking?”

 

_You sure showed him. Look at him, man. All appalled and tongue tied. You're a fucking showstopper. He even looks like he's trying to develop some sort of response to you. Hazel eyes deep in thought, now that meant shit was gonna get real. Or not. See how things pan out._

 

“What am I fucking thinking?” he repeated your question, now slowly leading you backward as you were soon pressed up against the grey wall. This position in particular had you meeting those tawny irises with a petite interest. “I'm thinking that I shouldn't have fallen so fucking hard for you, like I fucking have. That you're making me feel all types of fucking stupid every goddamn time I fucking think about you. The way you work these hands..”

 

The hands that were around your waist scaled down to lace them with yours, bringing them above your head to pin you back without putting up a fight.

 

“Negan, stop.” _This was wrong._

 

“The way these lips taste…” _Fuck his voice, man. Really, fuck it all to hell. Making you weak at the knees, kid. Godfuckingdammit. The way he braced his lips against yours like you two have been married for fucking years. So fucking soft. Jesus._

 

 _How didn't you realize you were fucking gyrating your hips against his, canting them forward like a bitch in heat? What a show you're putting on. “_ Oh, _baby_ **_girl_**.” He emphasized the last tidbit by letting one of his hands drop to cup you through your leggings.

 

Your breath wavered from wispy to heavy, losing track of how far you were _not_ trying to go with this shit. He fondled you through the thin layer of black cotton, a smirk straying close by as you elicited a hitched moan.

 

 _Why are you even trying to close your legs? Doesn't it feel so_ **_fucking_ ** _good? Feel like you've got your fill yet? You're fucking dirty, man. We all know there's more to your little directive than you're letting on._

 

“Negan, please. I can't.” _Can't, what? What are you holding yourself back from? He's showing you how good it can feel to be with him. Ain't that shit enough for you? Of course not._

 

His hand stilled, rising to cup your cheek as caked blood on his hand met the surface of your skin. “ _Can't?_ Or _won't?_ ” He asked. His gaze held something dangerous; daggers ever so close to your skin but never daring to pierce through you with such blissful ease.

 

Having gathered your bearings for what seemed like an eternity, you went for an ultimatum rather than suffer for the next few minutes of him being so close to you. You pushed him a foot or two back, coursing a hand through your black tresses.

 

“What's the problem? I would've thought you wanted this.”

 

“I...fuck, Negan. I do, alright? But..you gotta understand what I'm about to tell you. Okay?”

 

He nodded. He sauntered over to his bed, seating himself on the edge. Legs spread apart, hands laced together between them. The genuine look of curiosity and concern present on his person was disconcerting. He waited.

 

_Well, go on. Say your piece._

 

“Negan..Listen, we're two different people on this food chain.”

 

“The fuck are you talking about? Fucking _food chain_? What the hell you getting at?”

 

“You gonna let me continue or not?” Jilted by defeat, knowing you weren't going to give him the satisfaction, he ceased his chatter for the time being.

 

“Now..what I was trying to say was.. look at where we are, man. Look at where we _stand_ \- as two individuals. You're the goddamn _leader_ of this fucking place. You have people wrapped around your fucking finger. They're eating right out of the palm of your hand: just so they can have a place to sleep, have clothes on their back, and meat on their bones.

 

You have wives, Negan. Fucking six or seven of them, that you've so greatly accomplished within your reign, here. Whether they appreciate you or not, vacillating between the levels of respect or sensual bliss, is none of my business. And that's where we're different. You got everything you could ever want. You have your son, _alive_ \- with a cost. People waiting on you, hand and foot. Accessible lays at your disposal. And the fear that rages on through the community is endless. Then, there's me.”

 

Whilst you spoke, the man's focus never faltered. He never looked away, nor did he move an inch to show much discomfort at your words.

 

“I'm just another mule, man. When I was brought here with my brother, we expected a _lot_ from this place. We've run with some pretty bad people, and we thought this place would've done our asses in just the same. But it didn't. You proved that when you offered us a chance. A chance to survive and pull on our own damn weight. But see, that's thing. That's what we've been doing for years: _surviving_. I've hindered a flame inside of me that knows what it needs, but what is it that I need?

 

Yeah..it's cliché as shit, but hear me out. What you said before, about how they're not **_me_** , Negan..you..you can't just say that without fucking meaning it. You get me? Listen, when I said I was jealous about how you approached Kate and myself making the obvious implications of the green monster to your wives, I meant it. And..I..I wanna say I know what you're getting at. Now, don't get me wrong, I have nothing against polyamory. I support that shit as much as the next person would. Though..you can't expect me not to feel some sort of way about it. Dude, you can have your fun. You can have your cake and eat it, too. But you have to comprehend the fact that I can't be with you if you're gonna be fucking around with the others. That's just not my cup of tea, bruh.”

 

You saw him almost charge right up to you, only for your right hand to stop him. The defiance in his eyes was clear as day. He knew you were going to bring that shit up, so he only knew a reaction he could counter with.

 

However, you weren't done, and you'd see to it that he heard your every word. Right to the very end.

 

“Fucking listen to me before you open your fucking mouth, alright?”

 

You saw a twitch at the corners of his mouth. He was getting entertained by your demands, even had gotten a little turned on. It wasn't a surprise to you, honestly. He was just like a light switch. A flip of the coin. A roll of a die.

 

“Negan..I..yes, yes I’ve fallen head over heels for you. And..at this point, I don't know if I regret doing so. We're two different people, man. That's why I'm just telling you how I feel because I don't want you to have to live with the fact that, by the odd chances and I do mean _odd chances_ , you could give up your wives to be with me. And don't think that giving your wives up is gonna make you lose your power amongst everyone here. It doesn't. It won't. You've proven how scary you can really be. And I've seen that, first hand.

 

Negan, all those nights you came to visit, there wasn't one I regretted. I keep telling myself that I shouldn't _want_ you. That you're the bane of my fucking existence. But I can't shake you off like some sort of leper. This _attachment_ I have for you; a fucked up magnetic pull that fucking shocks me every goddamn time I'm with you. I hate it. I hate that it does shit to me. And that's why I'm giving you an ultimatum. I know it isn't gonna be easy, but I need you to forget all about how you feel about me.”

 

“ _Are you fucking_ **_kidding_ ** _me?”_ He came to stand on his feet, glaring you down. “ _Is this what your fucking_ **_speech_ ** _is all about!? This is the only choice you're gonna fucking give me!?  ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?”_

 

“What else do you want me to say!? Negan, I ain't **shit**! Between me and your wives, if ya wanna juxtapose us and shit, you're much better off with them than me! What could I give you that they haven't already!? Huh!? _I'm_. **_Nothing_**. Like I said, I'm just another pack mule that earns points to _live._ ”

 

_Great. You're crying, again. Fan-fucking-tastic._

 

“Fuck, Negan. You know you could do so much better than me. And you know that. You _fucking_ know that. So please, spare me the fucking heartache and just drop this shit. ‘Cause, between you and me, I don't think I'd be able to handle any of this shit anymore.”

 

The way you quivered, emotions on an ultimate high. Running amuck through the every nook and cranny inside of you. _How long are you gonna last, kid?_

 

“No. **_No._ ** I'm not doing this. I'm not gonna fucking give this shit up because **_you_ ** fucking said so. When I said my shit, I **fucking** meant it. I didn't **fuck** my wives this past week. Know why?”

 

You choked out a sob, hands trembling at your sides as your palms perspired beyond your control. And when he took a step closer to you, you might’ve fucking passed out.

 

“Because I **fucking** know what I damn well want. I fucking damn well know what I **fucking** need,” he said, his voice as rough as gravel as he reached his hands out to cup your cheeks.

 

“Negan..please,” you pleaded, voice cracking.

 

“What I fucking need is **you**. It's fucking **you** , sweetheart. Fuck, daddy loves you a fuckton, if you don't fucking know already.”

 

Even through your emotional state, the word _daddy_ elicited a breathy giggle from you. He kept your attention on himself, hoping to reel you in until you're finally his. _Come on, kid. He's really fucking trying, here. Come. On. Just give up. Accept it._

 

“Every day I fucking spent with you, there's not one I fucking regret. I couldn't even bring myself to get hung up on my girls without thinking about you, babydoll. And..I'm not..I'm not fucking used to this lovey-dovey shit, fucking pouring my heart out and what have you.” He swiped at the tears streaming down your cheeks, soon returning his arms to their rightful place around you. “But..I've done what needed to be done for me to be with you. I've given up my girls just so I can be with you. And it didn't take much.”

 

 

_God, the way he was dishing this shit out was like a set of vows. It shouldn't have made your heart swell, kid. You almost wanted to fucking kiss him, again._

_But, he doesn't_ **_seem_ ** _to be lying. You don't perceive any boy crying wolf shit out of him. He seems too bona fide in his triumphs to be with you. But..it couldn't just happen. Just. Like. That._

 

 _It couldn't have been that easy to give up the women he asked to marry him, all by the goodness of his heart. Because he_ **_actually_ ** _loves you. It sounds like a damn fluke. No one likes flukes ‘cause it fuck's everyone in the ass and is just plain unrealistic._

 

 _“_ And if you want fucking proof, just ask the girls yourself. I made sure they **all** know that you're fucking mine. That no one else can fucking have you, not even that fucking Mexican motherfucker.”

 

The thought of Javier being a potential lover was just a mere memory, now being replaced by the man before you.

 

 _It was him. It was_ **_always_ ** _him._

 

“I'm...fuck, I'm fucking in love with your sorry ass, alright? I'm fucking gone with you, and there's no way in hell you're fucking leaving this fucking room without me proving to you how great of a man I can be for you.”

 

_Huh. This was a start to..well, something special._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
_As the saying goes: nothing ventured, nothing gained._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for being M.I.A. But huzzah, I'm back!
> 
> Anywho, this update has been sliced and diced to whatever perfection it could be. I think it turned out pretty well! FYI, there may or may not be a lil' spinoff fic in the works for this reader so keep an eye out! 
> 
> Overall, hoped y'all enjoyed this one! Stay gold and happy, happy new year ❤️❤️


	20. close your eyes

“(Y/N)! Play with me, play with me!”

 

Lani latched onto you when Margaux came around. Thankfully, you had the day off to do just about anything. Well, not _anything_ . You were limited to whatever was in and out of Sanctuary, which wasn't much. But, you happily sufficed to the loving company of the little cutie pie that set a plastic tiara on your head. Priceless pink gems forged into the mock-up silver band, glistening in the morning light. A matching, flowy veil to complete the headdress. _Eat your fucking heart out, David’s Bridal._

 

Clearly satisfied at your current role, she squeezed your cheeks together for good measure.

 

“Now, you awe a pwincess, (Y/N)! One that fights the bad guys!”

 

“Oh, thank God. No damsel in distress,” you uttered, feigning dramatics as you clutched your chest. Though, the facade dispersed when you added, “Not that there's anything wrong with that scenario. I much prefer to be fighting the said bad guys.”

 

“And who did we say the bad guy was, sweetie?” Drew uttered, readjusting the bolt support as well as the magazine catch for good measure. His eyes never left your weapon, grinning when the response was given.

 

“Negan!” She seems all too happy to be uttering his name.

 

“Really, now? When was this up for discussion?” You questioned, Lani looking between the two of you for some sort of answer. Finding none, to her misfortune.

 

“Um..I dunno, Dew said that Negan is a bad man. And that his men awe bad men, too.” Graciously enough, Lani knew when to keep things under full discretion, especially yourself and your brother. As far as you were aware, she didn't pipe up anything to Simon or anyone else that you'd surely regret. _Thank fucking God._

 

“She's not wrong.” You shot a look Drew's way, irritation evident on your face. He saw your intent expression in his peripherals as he tried burying himself into his work without the drawback of his impending demise.

 

It must've been a few nights ago or so that you finally opened up your can of worms about _almost_ everything that happened between you and Negan - to your _own_ baby brother, no less. Leaving out the more incriminating and private details that may or may not have scarred your brother's very thoughts was the best thing that could come out of it.

  


_“I fucking told you! What did I tell you?! I fucking called that shit, man!”_

 

 _“So you did, and what would you like with that, sir? A large order of_ **_please shut the fuck up_** _?” Your brother looked at you with such offense that he almost pelted himself at you from across the room._

 

_“Hey, hey don't be fucking rude. Now, I just wanna know that..you know..”_

 

_Even in the darkness of your room, save for the light escaping from the small line of windows from the light posts outside, your brother sounded so distant when he continued. Like he didn't want to get too close, but yet he was so far away, as cliché as it was._

 

_“Does he..I know you've told me that he's hit you. Hell, I don't even have to fucking ask that, since it's real fucking obvious when I see some fucking red imprint on your face. But...of all people, why him?”_

 

 _The million dollar question you keep asking yourself. Is he really worth it? Is he_ **_really_ ** _worth the amount of blood you spill; the tears you cry; the pain that fucking makes you ache?_

 

 _No. No, he isn't. You could do so much better. You_ **_deserve_ ** _so much better. You could have a better life with Javi, and forget all about the man that ruined your life the moment you stepped foot into this fucking place._

 

 _And yet, there you lay. Thinking. Wondering. Contemplating._ **_Why?_ **

 

_What has he done that compelled you to think so much of him?_

 

 _Did he impede your very reservation of confidence and crushed it, opening you up for a better chance at acceptance? Did he twist and turn, beat and break every single barrier inside of you to make you fucking_ ** _see_** _?_ ** _See_** **_what_** _, you wondered._

 

_The times he would care for Lani, even if the time was spared for a few moments. And he'd look at you, hoping he'd catch a smile on your face. Then, you'd do just that, and then some. Probably blush and have a shy, little smile going on. He makes that glass jar of fireflies inside of you light up like it's the most relaxing, summer day. That's what he did to you. That's what he wants you to see; to feel._

 

_That your self-worth isn't surveyed by strict policies; that you don't need to have the full package to appease him. Teeth, tits, and toes; a premium deal for the superior complex. And that's what Negan seemed to prove your theory wrong._

 

_That night when he cornered you in the stall, you couldn't help thinking that maybe the extra fat around your edges would draw the man away from you. Because you weren't thin enough for those hands to grip. But, he saw through that. He sees the beauty in every woman he's been with or currently with._

 

_Big or small, black or white - any and every fucking crayon in the goddamn box - caught his eye. Yet, you couldn't even cipher why you feel the way you do when you're with him._

 

_And that's what kept you up at night. Clearly, he was an entirely different floor plan than you're normally used to. Sifting through every angle he put you through, just leave a bread crumb trail that leads right back to him. He's a blueprint that you're stuck on that is just absolute perfection, and can fuck shit up when need be._

 

_Maybe you should just accept this one. He might just work._

 

_“I..I don't know. I wish I knew, Drew. God, I wish I knew.”_

  
_Close your eyes, kid. Tomorrow is another day._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, lovies!!! 
> 
> I send my sincerest apologies for being M.I.A. for quite sometime now. It was due to some personal shit that got me hitting the fan, and just heading into a very dark place. But, on the plus side, my two beautiful friends made their way down to see me this past friday, and they just went home today and I miss them already :'(
> 
> Additionally, typing this update lessened the blow for me, so I'm forever grateful. I hoped you liked it, tho!
> 
> As always, stay gold ❤️❤️


	21. Pleasantries

“(Y/N), you okay?” You saw a small hand in your vision, shaking you from your thoughts. The curiosity piquing Lani’s attention drew yours to hers.

 

“Hmm? Yes, baby?”

 

Still seated at the picnic table, you examined the area as the sun was at its highest peak in the clear blue sky.

 

“You wuh daydweaming, (Y/N). Dew was gonna splash water on you.”

 

Clearly caught in his own, planned scheme he turned away to evade any unwanted focus he strung onto himself. Of course, you gave him the stank eye, which pulled him out of any sense of security.

 

Feigning his innocence, Drew placed a hand on his chest as he guffawed. “ _What,_ ** _me_** _?_ _How. Rude._ ** _You_** _accuse_ ** _me_** _of such nonsense? Why, I never!_ ”

 

“Alright, _drama queen._ She couldn't even save your ass to begin with. She likes _me_ more; _I'm_ the favorite one.”

 

Drew's jaw dropping and your cheeky grin and a tilt to your head earned a fitful of giggles from the little girl as she clutched her belly, cupping her mouth to try and stifle herself.

 

“That, you are,” said a voice that almost sounded like it was gouged out of some rock crusher, pile after pile of gravel climbing up the conveyor belt, scratching the man's very throat. You couldn't even suppress the shudder that escaped you, which made the very instincts of the man behind you go from a strict-headed leader to a wholly satisfied man with a fucking boner. And it wasn't like Drew to _not_ show his distaste, as it soon followed him home.

 

“Oh, _ewww_. No one asked for your nasty-ass opinion, Negan,” Drew said.

 

“That may be so, but at least I can make an honest woman of your sister. Ain't that right, darling?” The man murmured as he nipped at your ear, letting out a hearty chuckle as he set a hand on either side of you to cage you against him.

 

For one thing, you would've expected Negan to deliver a good hit to your baby brother's head to knock some sense into him; to get _goddamn respect_ , though no lunge was made on your leader's part. _Leader? Boyfriend? Cuddle buddy? Still haven't established that, yet, have you?_

 

Prior to even denying the man's very use of unnecessary innuendos in the current conversation, there was an unmistakable glow in the man's eyes when he saw Lani sitting across from you. “Hey, there's my lil’ girl.”

 

_Kid, if you looked back for even a second, you just might fall in love with him. All. Over. Again. Damn, kid. It's the fucking end for you. You're fucking_ **_whipped_ ** _out of your fucking ass._

 

_He's probably all googoo gaga in your stupid, little head. Though, your head ain't little. It's a little_ **_too_ ** _big to fit into the one-size fits_ **_most_** _. Okay, firstly, was that a double entendre or a play on words? You know what, don't answer that. Let yourself think on that._

 

He rounded the table when Lani all but squealed his name, hooking his hands under her pits to lift her into his arms.

 

With Lani on his hip and Lucille nowhere in sight, it was almost - and you do mean _almost -_ made him an honest looking man; a domesticated father as he pressed a slobbery kiss to the child's cheek. Shrilling with happiness, her attempts at pushing the man's face away before he could blow anymore raspberries to her cheek was a futile scene of trial and error.

 

And what an adorable scene, it was.

 

_But there he goes, again. Looking at you like you shined a flashlight in the darkest crevice that couldn't be reached. A hidden treasure behind your very eyes. However, there was glint in his own pair. A little smudge of_ **_something_** _._

 

_What was it, though? Fear? Self-restriction? Self-destruction? You'd have to ask him yourself._

 

_Somehow, the tinge in his eyes all but faded out of its existence. In turn, there was warmth that manifested itself to you - and only you, alone._

  
_And gosh, kid. You're fucking smiling like a goddamn idiot. Hell, he was, too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, lovies!
> 
> My deepest apologies for not updating sooner than expected. And I would also like to further emphasize my apology for this short chapter. I'm actually in the works for another fic, so I needed to get this lil' filler up and running before I progress with my other one! So, my sincerest apologies, sweeties.
> 
> But there will be more to come for the reader and Negan, I promise you all that ❤️ on another note, I also wanted to incorporate a sense of..humanity that Negan is slowly unveiling for the reader. And I do hope it gets better from there!
> 
> also, I just wanted to some feedback on whether I should change the summary for this fic or not? Please let me know at the comments below, thanks!
> 
> As always, I hoped you all enjoyed this. Stay gold ❤️❤️


	22. Small steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, I haven't done a beginning note in a long while. 
> 
> However, this one is solely based upon a thief that has been plagiarizing/stealing written works from not only on AO3, but also on Tumblr, and other publishable sites. As I've seen, the culprit, who can be located [here](http://g0blins0ul.deviantart.com/gallery), has carelessly copied and pasted fics from authors, including myself, onto their account without consent.
> 
> Initially, those who have taken notice of this thievery have reported their account as well as make assertive demands to delete the works before anymore backlash could befall unto them.
> 
> @smuttwd and other fellow reporters, your inquiry for this current situation is greatly appreciated by all authors and we hope this plagiarism will come to an end _permanently_.
> 
> On another note, let's get to the update!

The rest of day progressed as it should. Successful supply runs, daily check-ins to neighboring communities - although, they were all far off from Sanctuary. But, Simon had ensured that dividing each of the reconnaissance work amongst the troops provided copacetic proficiency.

 

On Negan's behalf, parting ways with Lani was like he was grasping at straws. The youth didn't release her hold on Negan's neck, whining.

 

“You don't have to go! Stay wiff me an’ (Y/N)! Please, please, _please_?” She dragged on her pleas as much as her little heart could, in hopes to avert Negan's presence to remain with you and your brother. She even utilized the signature tactics that any child - _okay, every childish human being_ \- had up their sleeves. _The puppy eyes and the matching pout._

 

Amused by her assertiveness, the man pressed a kiss to her nose to silence her. Staring her right in the eye, he said, “Now, _apple pie_. As much as I'd _love_ to keep you and your mommy company--”

 

You didn't think you'd ever hear Negan say that. _Ever_. Then again, there was a lot of shit you never expected the man would say to your goddamn face. So, you decided to let this one slide.

 

_Even though it made your dumbass look like blushing bride. Fucking idiot. He's looking at you. Fucking cheeky motherfucker._

 

“(Y/N)’s not my mommy. I mean, she watches out fo’ me an’ stuff--”

 

“--mommy or not, she's still your guardian, sweetie. She looks out for you and cares for you. As do I and your Uncle Drew. You get me?”

 

In your peripherals, you saw your brother react at the way Negan _so casually_ \- nonchalantly should've been the better word, but you decided to give your baby brother a little dignity - mentioned his name. Of all your time at Sanctuary, Drew actually cracked smiled at what Negan said. Even if it was a small little tug on his lips. Though, it didn't last long as his attention returned to your rifle he was currently cleaning.

 

When Lani put two and two together, she couldn't suppress her head bobbing in agreement. “Yeah, I get it. But, can I come wiff you? I wan’ help wiff wha’eva ya doing!”

 

He was probably going to sort through the supplies Arat and the rest of them acquired today. Wouldn't be shocking, really.

 

“Hmm..” He bounced Lani on his hip, tapping his chin in thought and pursing his lips. His eyes drifted between you and Lani, his wolfish smile remaining. “I mean, you gotta ask (Y/N). Gotta have her permission first before we're off to the races, bumblebee.”

 

And, _boy_ , did she make her pleas. They didn't even need to be fucking verbal. Just her puppy eyes and the matching pout did you in. Shouldn't have worked the way it did. You never let it drag you down. But, this was _Lani_. _Come on_.

 

Eliciting a sigh, you shook your head. _You're really whipped, kid. You've really gotten the domesticity down to a T. I mean, you're close to it._

 

“Just..stay at Negan's side. At. All. Times. _All times_. Alright, baby?”

 

Brimming with happiness, those puppy eyes were gone. “Yay, yay, yay, yayyy! Tank you, (Y/N)! I pwomise to stay cwose to Neegan!”

 

“I promise to look after _our_ little girl. No need to worry about that, doll face.” He strode closer to you, making sure to keep a good grip on Lani before he leaned down to capture your lips with his.

 

Soft as always. You even felt a bit self-conscious for not applying any lip balm. Chapped lips weren't the best when your partner was _always_ down for..whatever the affections may be. Not like you expected him to kiss you right then and there. In broad daylight. In front of his best guys, who weren't too far from where the picnic table you guys sat at, waiting patiently like little watch dogs. That's what they were. But you liked Simon. And Arat. On their good days, that is. Their bad days were _way_ worse than what you expected.

 

“ _Ewwww.”_ Scrunching her face up in dismay, Lani cupping her eyes with her small hands.

 

“That's _right_ , Kai. _Ewwww_.” Your dear brother even thought it would be appropriate to gag at the affections you were given. So, you decided to make it a show. And you weren't really one to go _all-out_. Really, it was just to shut your brother up.

 

One of your hands reached up to cup the cleanly shaven cheek, deepening the kiss as a pompous chuckle left the older man's lips. “Mm, mmm, _MMMM_!” Negan even swayed his hips the way he always did when he got excited. You thought it was actually fucking hilarious. _You really have some weird interests, kiddo. And, yeah, sure._ **_Sure_** _. You weren't kissing Negan just to shut your brother up, but, really, deep down, you were fucking enjoying this._

 

_Well, you did say you liked silver-foxes. Always had you hot and bothered. You're fucking crazy, kid._

 

You dragged your hand further up to press against the back of Negan's neck, deepening the kiss. You slipped your tongue into Negan's mouth, reeling the man in further. Which, in retrospect,  really had the man almost dropping Lani altogether.

 

“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ. _Just_. **_Stop._ ** _For the love of_ **_God_** _, my eyes are fucking **bleeding**. You're putting Lani through early scarring!” _

 

You could've moaned, made it an actual, little show. Would have probably added more emotional baggage that really wasn't necessary for your brother. But, he _did_ curse in front of Lani. And the two of you have had this discussion before. Reprimanding your brother would be the best way to end this little make-up session you so happily enticed.

 

When you broke away, Negan almost stumbled onto you, Lani gripping his leather jacket tightly upon being shifted. Your hand had slithered down to the man's cheek, your attention brought over to your brother. “What did I _say_ about cursing in front of the baby? Huh?” You looked up to Negan, pointing a finger in his direction. “This applies to you, too.”

 

“Well, sucking your face off really suppresses me from saying anything else, so I'm not really complaining.” _Cheeky fucking bastard._

 

“I'm about to be really sick, please stop. I came out to have a good time, and I'm, honestly, feeling so attacked right now.”

 

You shot a deadpanned expression Drew's way, dropping your hand to your lap. “Okay, _meme queen_. Don't cuss in front of the baby, then we wouldn't be having this discussion.”

 

" _Excuse **me**_ , but _I_ didn't start this! Negan thought it'd be all balloons and confetti canons to kiss you like that. _He_ started this! Not _me_!”

 

“Now, see here,” Negan held a free finger towards Drew. “Your sister was the one who went all in. Tongue and all. I'm surprised she didn't even grab my fu--darn junk. I would've left the kid with you and took her back to my room to--”

 

“--and that's where you head off with Lani to evaluate the supplies!” Cutting Negan off was better than him really being explicit with anymore details that would've gotten you really _hot and bothered_. _Speaking of which, when were you gonna shag the guy? Any day now, from what you've deduced._

 

“Now, _that_ I can agree on. Be safe with Negan, baby. We'll see you soon,” Drew said. _You loved your brother, you really did. You really wanted to slap him upside the head. Like now. Right now._

 

“Be good for Negan, okay? He'll drop you off at Mama Gaux’s, tonight.”

 

“‘Kay, (Y/N)! ‘Kay, Dew! I will! Pwo-mise! Luh you!”

 

“Love you, too, baby,” your brother and yourself chimed in unison.

 

Negan leaned forward, his lips close to your ear. His toothy grin manifested itself as he whispered, “Meet me in my room around 7, tonight.” He slipped _something_ into your palm, closing it.  One more kiss was placed on your lips before Lani asked to give one kiss each to you and your brother, hugs following suit as the pair left to the boxes and crates that trailed the main front.

 

You couldn't even deny that you watched him leave, feeling your stomach flutter and chest bubble at the mandatory request he gave you. Made you feel some type of way. _Did ya feel special? Fuck yeah, man. You know you feel special. You_ **_are_ ** _special. Don't you ever think twice about that._

 

_On another note, what did he slip ya?_

 

You opened your hand to find a key. From your own presumption, this is one of Negan's room keys. Everyone had a key to their own room. But, to have the room key to your - _you can say it, kid - boyfriend's_ room was.. _Well, you might as well be moving in with him, if anything. Big step, kid big step. Mighty big step you're taking._

 

So caught up in your own thoughts, you didn't even hear what your brother was saying. He flicked a stale cheese ball at your face, ruling you out of your processing. “You listening to me, (Y/N)?”

 

“Dude, I'm still trying to process shit. Let a woman be, man.”

 

“Well, can I tell you how I'm feeling about Negan right now? Just so we can get that out of the way.”

 

“Sure, Dr. Phil. Spill.”

 

“Fucking shut up, Steve Harvey. I'm being hella serious.” His voice was surely soaked with it, if you haven't noticed already. Gently laying the barrel he was polishing, his eyes held criticism and strict intent. “Listen, you know how I am when you…start dating someone. Being the overprotective, little brother is just how things go. I mean, I'm not..getting _all up in your business_ whenever he flirts with you or some shit. Like, that was my original stance..thought he'd take advantage of you or something. I could really tell him off, but I bet he'd cut off my dick and shit. Or he might bash my shit, which..I don't know which is worse.”

 

And Drew wouldn't be wrong. From seeing several people being given the iron, to seeing Lucille in action, you were a bit scared yourself. But, you knew Negan wouldn't hurt you. He _has_ struck you. But he'd never cross the boundary of progressing any further than that.

 

 _Now, don't you start defending him for_ **_that_** _. In a heated situation, nothing should be physical. Necessary or not, you're better off refraining from raising a hand. Should've told Negan that. Man, you're really sick._

 

“But, what I'm trying to say is that..I'm gonna have a talk with him, one of these days. If he plans on being with you... _long-term_ , then he needs to know our terms.”

 

Caught in disbelief, suppressing a chuckle almost made you hurl backwards to the gravel behind you. “You didn't happen to have this conversation with Saul, did you?”

 

Drew shrugged, returning his focus to finishing up his work. “I proved my threats as an eleven year old boy. Plausible and yielding some serious damage.”

 

“Sounds like you attacked him with some load of bull like those kids off of the online sessions in GTA.”

 

“Okay, first of all, those kids were a bunch of pussies. Always thinking, _oh, my tank is_ **_way_ ** _better than yours. Like, fucking get REKT, son._ Dude, they were, like, twelve fucking years old. Thinking they could whup my ass on a heist.” He was going off tangent. Apple doesn't fall far from the tree. “Oh, and secondly, fuck you.”

 

“ _Oooh,_ ” you placed a hand on your chest, gasping with dramatic cynicism. “ _Harsh much? Like. Oh. Em. Gee._ ”

 

“Bruh, fucking shut up.” He chucked the towel at your face, the oil residue caressing your cheek by the mere fabric.

 

You swiped the rag off your face as your brother fell backwards, laughter escaping him. “Dude, what the fuck!? Really!? I just took a shower, today! Dammit!”

 

“Oh my God, oh my God.” he clutched his stomach, trying to stifle himself. “Dude, it's only on your face. Not your hair. Chill, fam _chill_.”

 

 _God, the two of you sounded like each other every single day. It was like you were two sides of the same coin._ _The sibling rivalry will never cease to entertain the two of you._

 

From afar, Negan was hand in hand with Lani as one of his runners began listing off of a clipboard of what was rummaged from today's findings. He looked over his shoulder, noting your sudden outburst as his brows furrowed at the sight of your brother spinning you around. However, his expression altered to a wholehearted one, which looked displaced when Arat prodded him about several mason jars filled with peaches either needed to be moved to the pantry, or to the Distillery.

 

You were laughing, wiping away whatever residue you could get off with the ziploc bag of wipes you bought from the Commissary.

 

Before today, things were tense. Intense, even. You didn't know what was gonna happen between you and Negan, and you sure as hell thought nothing would happen amongst the two of you.

 

Between a rock and a hard place, you almost gave up. Though, Drew could never see you at your darkest moments. He knew he'd have to butter you up, somehow. Make you kid around with him.

 

 _You're still growing up, ya know. You're only twenty, kid. You don't need to let your maturity get the best of you. You can still_ **_live_** _._

 

_Yeah, you can be the protector of your baby brother and Lani. Don't make it out to be like you don't need it either. That you don't need any protection. Total understatement. Negan will make you see that._

  
  
_Just you wait._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this one was actually supposed to be a short update, but ended up being sliced and diced for a good week or so.
> 
> For those who have been with me from the beginning or have just jumped onto the boat, I wholly appreciate all of the support you all have given for this fic.
> 
> There are times where I just want to stop altogether because I could never deem myself a well-styled writer. But I'm learning to gain more confidence in myself!
> 
> Again, I thank you all for viewing support, and as always, stay gold ❤️


	23. Child Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, lovies!
> 
> I just thought I should let you know that the work that was plagiarized by a user on deviantart has been dealt with, but there needs to be more justice for the author of _Irresistible Danger_ and other fics. So, I hoping for the best intentions and course of actions that will bring this injustice down unto that DA user.
> 
> Nevertheless, thank you for the support from you all ❤️ off you go, lovies!!

Dinner time came faster than you expected. With Drew locking up the last of the pieces he cleaned for the majority of the day, you stood third to last on the line for your next meal.

 

Maron had cut in front of you, the two of you playfully shoving one another before he managed to wedge himself with his entire back side to your front.

 

Of course, you wouldn't be yourself without laying a few playful punches to the man's back to jostle some laughter from him.

 

_Today turned out to be a pretty relaxing day, kid. You didn't cause any trouble. No one got hurt due to your own misfortunes. Everything seems to be smooth sailing._

 

_And sure, you wouldn't believe that. You always keep thinking too damn much. Keep doing that, and you just might get another one of those fucking migraines. Let's steer clear of that, kid. Tylenol went up on the point system, so less thought processing would be strongly suggested._

 

“I wonder what's for dinner, tonight. Oh. Evening, Simon.”

 

Maron's voice broke you from your thoughts, noting the way another towering figure casted a shadow over you. You glanced up to meet the Cheshire smirk rolling off Simon's lips. “What are you grinning about, boss-man?”

 

“What are you doing on line?”

 

_Getting dinner? Like a normal human being?_

 

“I'm..getting dinner? Isn't that what I'm on line for?”

 

“Oh, really? I thought we were lined up for some pornography autograph signing. That's why everyone's all smiles and all that shite.” _Maron, you fucking dumbass._ You smacked the man upside the head, a pained laugh escaping him. “ _Owwwww! That hurt, you know!”_

 

“Stop being so difficult, please.”

 

“Now, now kids. Seriously. (Y/N), step outta line and follow me.” Simon began walking off towards the dining hall exit, slowing his footing as he waited for you to trail after.

 

“..what's all that about?” Maron began massaging the area that you decided to make your favorite disciplinary action spot. “You in trouble, lass?”

 

“Not..that I know of.” An incredulous look was all your eyes could see from the Brit. “I had the day off, today! Don't try to insinuate shit.” he tilted his head, arms folded against his chest as he pursed his lips.

 

“I don't believe you, little pot. But, shouldn't keep the right-hand man waiting. I'll, uh, save you a container. I'll have Margaux put it to the side for ya. Tell her it's your last meal.”

 

“Thanks, man.” Your voice held a tense hesitation shortly after holding its sarcasm, smacking Maron's back as you headed over to Simon. A few wandering eyes followed your stout form before returning to their conversations and meals.

 

“So,” You chimed in, standing in front of Simon once you were out of ears reach. “What's got you all chipper and shit? Smiling at me like that.”

 

_Now, Negan wasn't the only one you had a crush on. You'd admit to yourself and Drew that Simon was a pretty chill guy, and you've had your moments with him. One-sided and shit, but they were pretty..interesting, to say the least._

 

“Head honcho told me to tell _you_ ,” he pressed a finger to your clothed chest. “That dinner will be brought up to his room for the both of you. So, that's why I pulled you off the line. But, I mean, if ya wanna snack, you could. But his meals are _pretty_ fancy, and overcompensating. Thought you should keep that in mind.” He patted your head, turning on his heel as uttered the last few words over his shoulder. “Have fun, cutie.”

 

_Dinner date, huh? Well, that means something..right? I mean, you're gonna have to get ready. It was quarter to 7._

 

_Oh shit._

 

You bounded down the halls, reaching the dormitories as you fumbled with your key in hand, soon sticking it into the door.

 

Rushing as you were, you tried your best to look... _presentable_. You were unsure on whether you should've dressed _down_ or dressed _up._ Thankfully, you went for the middle ground - just to be safe.

 

A navy blue v-neck that almost acted like a cape to you, since the train came down to the back of your thighs. And you settled on a worn-out pair of dark denim shorts that were on the shorter side. You always preferred them that way. Casual as you could get, you suppose.

 

You rushed to the bathroom facilities next, in hopes to snag a free sink. Rightfully so, everyone was having their fill in the dining area so you were able to brush your teeth. _Better safe than sorry, right?_

 

You applied a dark matte liquid lip to your lips, fluffing out your hair the best you could. _Not like it was gonna be tamed. You know Negan, kid. He'll wreck you anywhere and everywhere._

 

_Man, you dirty girl!_

 

* * *

 

 

 

When you arrived at Negan's room, it was five minutes to the original meeting time. Toeing the tip of your burgundy hightops at the wooden floor, you glanced down at your pocketwatch to check the time.

 

 _Kid, don't_ **_worry_ ** _about it. Punctuality is_ **_still_ ** _a thing to most people. So, just knock on the door and make your presence known._

 

You just stared at the door, gnawing at your lower lip. Your face heated up, your inner palms sweating at your side.

 

_Hey, stop that. You're gonna ruin your work. Just relax, kid. You're doing well for yourself. You really are._

 

The dark wood stain of the door should've been appealing to most, even striking fear in others. But, in all honesty, you were just hoping you didn't fuck shit up.

 

_Just fucking do it, kid! You got this!_

 

With no remorse for yourself, you curled your hand into a fist, tapping your knuckles against the door to alert him.

 

_Might as well mention your name. Just in case he might pull Lucille on you by accident._

 

“It's me. Um, (Y/N).”

 

Silence. Silence.

 

Then, there was a response.

 

“ _Ahh, come in, sweetheart!_ ” said the audible voice behind the door.

 

_You got this far. Don't fucking chicken out, man. You fucking got this._

 

Grabbing the gold-finished handle, you turned it to open the door.

 

To no surprise, you were met with reminiscent feeling of his room. Visual and all. However, the man rounded his bed as he was drying himself off.

 

_And just what the doctor ordered. Little remedy for the mind, realities colliding with your little dream. Premonition? No, dream. It was a dream._

 

_The fucker was hot as shit. Grey furred, chiseled chest. A bit on the lanky side, but got some meat on his bones. You'd surely fix that, as your aunt would say. Unfortunately, he had the decency to wear pants. You never liked pants. Hence the pair of shorts you wore, tonight._

 

 _You little_ **_slut_** _, you._

 

His eyes never left you, toweling his hair until strands stood out in all different directions.

 

_You find that fucking cute, don't you? Fucking idiot, hehe._

 

 _“Wow.”_ He folded his towel over his bare arm, striding up to you. He snaked his towel-free arm around your waist, pulling you up against him. “ _You. Are. Fucking._ ** _B-e-a-u-tiful_** _!”_

 

_You're fucking blushing, bitch. You're fucking blushing all over!_

 

“Uh, um..thanks, uh..You're, heh, not too bad yourself.” _Way to go, killer. Smooth._

 

Quipped with a smirk on his lips, he leaned down to recapture yours, dipping you ever so slightly before pulling you back. _Oh, never mind. He was fucking smooth. Goddamn, motherfucking smooth as a goddamn surfboard. All oiled down and shit._

 

 _Curse that motherfucking grin that just makes his eyes look like slits. You're way too fucking deep into this guy. And you haven't even bothered to ask whether he was actually_ **_not_ ** _banging his wives anymore, and that you were his one and only woman._

 

_But, stop your fucking thought train. He's got this night planned just for you two; and you two alone._

 

“Mind waiting your fine ass over there,” he thumbed in the direction of the coffee table. _Oh, yeah. You remember that_ **_perfectly_** _._ “While I get ready for ya?”

 

“Sure, yeah. Yeah, that's fine.” Leaving one more kiss on you, he strode over to his joining bathroom as he left the door open.

_Anymore kisses like that, and you might just fucking burst. Liar. You were fucking loving it, so don't try denying it. Ms. Kübler-Ross would be very offended that you actually didn't follow protocol. Okay, not really. But, seriously. Get a grip._

By the time you could get situated, the man was had already slicked down his hair with gel, slipped on a fitted, white crew neck as booted feet sauntered over to you.

 

Putting on a little show, he rubbed at his eyes as he blinked at you several times. You shook your head in amusement, wondering of his intentions for doing so.

 

“Man, you're still fucking beautiful, even _after_ I left you just now. I'm a lucky man, babydoll.” he offered you a hand, grinning. Sure enough, he had you on your feet with an arm around your waist and twirled you around like you two were some old married couple. Almost got you dizzy, too. _Okay, maybe he did._

 

“A _real_ lucky man,” he said against your lips, a giggle gracing your lips.

 

“You're fucking cheesy, man. Jesus.” You shook your head, his nose bumping against yours as he held you closer.

 

“Hey, don't be calling me out _just_ yet. Let's head over to the main sitting room for dinner,” he retorted, pecking your lips as he pulled away to take back your hand, leading the way to the room right down the hall.

 

Just like Negan's bedroom door, the double doors were as dark as they came. A little unnerving, but that was whisked away when he opened one of the doors without letting go of you.

 

_Okay, you had to give the guy credit. There weren't any red roses that trailed down the hall, scented candles lighting the way._

 

_Instead, it looked like a kid's little toyland exploded in there._

 

Stacks upon stacks of board games littered the floor from CLUE to Monopoly. Tubs ranging from the largest of quantities to small tins with masking tape detailing the contents inside of them.

 

 _And could you believe it? He even got Legos. Fucking_ **_Legos_** _, man. Dude, he's a keeper. A damn, fucking keeper._

 

Slackjawed and nostalgia knocking at your door. Your inner child was bouncing off the walls, yearning to get a taste of what was inside.

 

 _“_ Holy shi--h-how?” You looked up at Negan, flabbergasted. From what you could cipher, the man wasn't going to kiss and tell. Not yet, at least.

 

He peered down at you, _smiling that stupid-ass smile that makes your toes curl. Fuck him, really. Now, take_ **_that_ ** _as you like, kid._

  
“Well, _baby girl_ , why don't you head on in there and pick out a game we can play? I'll explain while we wait for dinner to show up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, ain't that just goddamn _adorable_. In my opinion, I really think Negan has the softest of sides that he never shows, but the reader brings that out of him. All kindred spirits and such ❤️
> 
> But I hope y'all liked this one! I honestly failed ;~;
> 
> Okay, and so like I just breached 40k word count?? Like holy shit??
> 
> As always, stay gold my lovies ❤️❤️


	24. Some T.L.C.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, lovies!
> 
> Apologies for the M.I.A. I've actually had this lil' thang in my editing pile for quite a bit, but I'm like fuck it!
> 
> Onward you go!

_Drew was a crock of shit, man. Fucking little bastard._

 

“I'm going to kill Drew for ratting me out. Fucking little shit, man.” Your hand shuffled through the various colour blocks, plucking one out of the container and placing it onto the green platform that spread a good yard or so.

 

The two of you were situated with your back to his chest, shifting your positions that Negan had to have an arm around your waist. His hand would drift to your thighs every so often, dragging an open palm along your inked skin as goosebumps followed close behind.

 

_But see, are you really complaining? Or, were you just making a fuss over Drew telling your boyfriend about your favorite pastimes? That shit's pretty cute, honestly. And, kid, if you haven't noticed. You and him might’ve just fallen more in love with each other than you already have. Fucking sappy fuckers._

 

“Are you _really_?” He placed a yellow flag atop of one of the towers you built, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “Sounds like an empty threat to me.”

 

“..dude, I didn't think you'd take him seriously. I mean, come on. Who rounds up fucking _Legos?_ Especially _this_ fucking much? It's unbelievable.” You looked over your right shoulder as Negan leaned forward to nibble at your lips. Ending up as a giggling fit, turning away just a hair had him placing slobbery kisses to the surface of your skin.

 

“Negan, oh my God. Dude, stop.” _You giggling little bitch_ , _you_. _He just kept on doing it. Even leaned you up closer to his chest so he can keep going. You're such a little slut, man. You fucking love it._

 

“Don't deny it,” he breathed into your ear. " _Accept it, **beautiful**_.” At the endearment, you curled into yourself as locks of your hair covered your face.

 

 _Are you_ **_really_ ** _feeling self-conscious, right now? Really, now? Are you_ **_fucking_ ** _serious? I thought you went over this with yourself. Hell, we went over this!_

 

Noticing the reticence in the air, he maneuvered you around so the two of you were face-to-face. “Sweetheart?” There was concern in his voice. But then the realization was clear as day. “..you know that I fucking mean everything I say to you, right? That everything I've said to you, specifically the affectionate, sappy fucking shit..I meant it. All of it.”

 

_Okay, don't you start fucking crying. Don't you fucking start. The date just started and you're already diving into the waterworks, kid. Come on, cheer up. Your boyfriend's trying to make you happy, for Christ's sake._

 

_God-fucking-dammit, you're crying._

 

Cupping your cheeks between his large hands, he wiped away the stray tears, placing a kiss on your right eyelid.

 

“I fucking mean it, princess.” Another kiss to your left.

 

“You're so fucking beautiful.” One was placed on your nose.

 

“So _goddamn_ **beautiful**.” The last one landed on your lips, which made you let out a tear-stricken chortle as you raised your hands to cup his.

 

“And I'm gonna remind you every goddamn fucking day, sweetheart. You listening to me?” Tawny eyes met your watery gaze as you nodded, sniffling. “Speak when you're spoken to, darlin'.”

 

“Y-yes..yes, I'm listening.”

  


The numbing sensation of your nerves faded away after awhile, the warmth in his facial features drafting a much better mood than you originally anticipated.

 

And the thing was that the man wasn't one for emotional support, from what you've gathered as a first impression. It just didn't seem like his style. Always aiming for the sweet spot; always making things pleasurable for himself and his partner.

_  
_

_And he wanted things to be perfect. Well, perfect_ **_enough_** _._

 

 _You sure as hell weren't perfect. You've got your insecurities; issues that never fail to be perceived by the apparent eye. Yet, it's just_ **_you_** _._ **_You_ ** _bury yourself so much that even I can't tell you're even alive, most of the time._

 

 _But, I see how he is with you. Ever since he started visiting you, starting to get to know you better than you know yourself, is a fucking unnerving thing. You've said so yourself, he could have anyone. He could still have his wives, and yet, he chose you. He chose_ **_you_** _._

 

 _Don't you think that's some_ **_real_ ** _fucking commitment, right there? Like, holy fucking shit. It's pretty fucking scary, in my opinion._

 

_He could have anyone he set his eyes on. A nice package. Whether male or female or even stretching through the gender spectrum, he could just whisk them away with his charm. And oh, what a fucking charmer he damn well is. Silver-tongued fucking devil, he was._

 

_Anyway, enough mental talk. Go have dinner before the shit gets cold. Looks like spaghetti, or whatever apocalypse delicacy equivalent it could equate to. I mean, it looks way fucking better than the shit you'd get in the caf._

  


* * *

  
  
  


 

 

 

 

“So, you used to be a teacher, huh?”

 

“Yeah, taught for the local high school. Athletic academics and all that shit.” He chewed on a piece of garlic bread, the mouth-watering aroma gracing the air _ever so beautifully. Come on, you gotta admit. It smells just as good as it fucking tastes._

 

The two of you took your meals on the coffee table that used to be against the back wall, now settled in between two grey chaise lounge chairs. The sound of forks scraping the plates was the current white noise of the night.

 

“I honestly can't imagine you teaching without mouthing off to some of the kids, man. I mean, I wouldn't have minded you being my teacher, if you catch my drift.” You winked at the man, who only smirked in turn.

 

“Now, I wouldn't have minded _you_ being in my classroom. Would've passed you with flying colors,” he said, his smirk stretching further.

 

You thought for a moment, your eyes widening as you shook your head. You took another piece of garlic bread from the center platter that dinner arrived on, closing your eyes. “I take it back, now. I don't want to relive my high school years. I'll take senior year over anything else.”

 

“That so? I mean, either way, you would've been legal. But, still a bit young, for my standards.”

 

“Oh, so you have standards?” You teased, poking his hand with the prongs of your fork. “You don't like the underage fantasy?”

 

“To be quite honest, it'd be like dating my son…and that shit don't fly right, in my books.” his face contorted in offense, chewing.

 

“Jesus, fuck. I mean, if you fucking put it that way, I can see why. _Jesus_ , man. _Chill_.”

 

“...but, you wouldn't oppose to dating me, even if I was my current age, right now? And you were a senior and shit.”

 

“Nope!” You shrugged. Then, you stared him right in the eye, sticking your tongue out at him. “Besides, I was married to Saul, by then.”

 

“Oh, shit. That's right. Man, what a lucky motherfucker. Got to you before I did.”

 

The more the two of you spoke, a fire seemed to rekindle a bond between kindred spirits. When you spoke about Saul, he'd follow suit about Lucille. When he'd bring up Vinny's younger years, you'd spring up about Luna's first steps. And when it came down to just random shit like _what's your favorite colour_ or _do you have a Hitchhiker's thumb,_ there would always be an answer to a question the pair of you would have for each other.

 

He even asked about what the meaning of what _lit_ was or _fam_. You told him it was just modern lingo that stuck with the generations, and really, they were voiced ironically.

 

 _It's not like he's correcting you on your table etiquette and shit, no elbows on the table and covering your mouth whilst yawning. It looks like he actually finds your usage of the modern lingo pretty fucking funny. And yes, that_ **_is_ ** _a good thing, so fucking relax your tits._

  
  
  
  


_You're leaving a mark, that's for damn sure._

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cute lil' interaction, isn't it? 
> 
> I know I've specified this work as an E rating, but it _will_ get there! Smut and all, I promise you. I'm even hyped for the other hurtful shit I'm vibrating for like forreal, ma dudes.
> 
> But, as always, stay gold ❤️❤️


	25. Safe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, lovies!
> 
> Now, I'd just like to apologize for being M.I.A. Work has been a butt, but have no fear - I am here!
> 
> I'm mostly on [tumblr](http://caitydestroyz.tumblr.com), if ya wanna find my sorry ass (:
> 
> On another note, gonna shamelessly promo my new fic from this Reader. If ya wanna check it out, check it out [hurr](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9667427).
> 
> Nevertheless, onward!
> 
> ( _btw, I apologize in advance for the shitty update. I just wanted to get this one out there before I forget about it for a month_ )

_So. Dinner turned out pretty well, don't you think?_

 

_Had yourselves a laugh, even had some incriminating little tidbits disclosed for curious ears._

 

_Good job, kid._

  


_And the night couldn't just end right then and there. No, of course not. It would've been too easy, especially since Negan couldn't keep his hands off of you once the two of you finished eating._

  
  


Throughout the course of the evening, the two of you would find yourselves locking lips on every surface of the sitting room. From the chaise lounge chairs, to the settees. With your backs to the walls, to the carpeted flooring.

 

_And you sure as hell didn't fucking mind the change of pace. Not. One. Bit._

 

_You cheeky little slut, you._

 

He had gripped your hair with just the right amount of gusto that left you begging him for more, clawing at the man's clothed back for a pleasurable purchase. All the while, the rough handling elicited a mélange of giggles and moans from your person. The way he growled in your ear, displaying immense dominance that, no less, discarded every single insecurity you had. If only for the moment, essentially.

 

By the end of the night, you couldn't even bring yourself to reapply your lipstick, for how rough he was with you. Not that you minded.

 

Your hair was in clear disarray once your date drew to a close, with his arm around your shoulders, and yours around his waist as he escorted you back to your room.

 

It must've been past midnight by the time you returned, and it's not like you cared what other people thought if they saw you with the leader of Sanctuary. You held your own, so you wouldn't let shit happen to begin with. And besides, you were gracious enough to be _noticed_ by Negan. It took your ass long enough, but you did it.

 

And at the back of your mind, you couldn't help but feel guilty about how Javi even thought he had a chance with you. However, Negan managed to claw his way into your life. With those thoughts in mind, did you ever stop think that maybe there could have been a chance to stick it out with Javi?

 

_I mean, yeah, he was around your age. Javi, I mean. He's young. Got a lot of spunk in him. He's got the emotional grasp on family you know all too well._

 

 _But, somehow, you see something in Negan._ **_Something_** _. What the fuck does that even mean?_

 

Every so often, the pads of his fingers would caress the fresh hickies littering your chest.

 

 _Oh ho, Drew is gonna have a motherfucking_ **_ball_ ** _with you, kid. Just wait ‘til his ass wakes up. You better try covering that shit up while you can._

 

_Why you shaking your head like that? Oh, so you won't? You dirty, dirty girl!_

  
  
  
  
  


Once arriving at your door, Negan leaned you up against the cool, metal surface. He tilted your chin up with his index finger and thumb to meet his eyes, that pompous smirk evident on his face.

 

“I had some _real_ fucking fun, tonight. Hope you enjoyed yourself, too, princess.”

 

“Of course, I did. You sure do know how make a girl feel special.” You leaned up on the tips of your toes, pressing a chaste kiss to the man's chin.

 

“Oh, _sweetheart_. This is just the beginning. Hope you know that.”

 

His expression never faltered. Filled with something you've come to know.  

 

 _Assurance._ _Confidence. Life. Love. Sensuality. Surety. Tranquility. Warmth. God, you're so_ ** _fucking_** _cheesy! Listing all this shit like he's made_ ** _that_** _much of an impact on you. Wow, kid._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
_He makes you feel safe, doesn't he?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoped this one wasn't too boring for you lot! I felt like I didn't grasp the reader well enough, so I'm sorry if it seemed half-assed. This update was rather short, and I do apologize for that :(
> 
> But as always, stay gold lovies ❤️❤️


	26. Life Is Strange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, lovies!
> 
> For this chapter, I really hope you enjoy this one! The interactions are becoming grander and grander by each update, omf.
> 
>  
> 
> _(if you wanna find me, I'm on[tumblr](http://caitydestroyz.tumblr.com) :)_
> 
> And yes, the title is inspired by the game _because that game destroys your life - tenfold._
> 
> Anyway, off you go!!

“Psst.” You felt the pad of someone's finger poke your nose, which really was rather large.

 

_I mean, if you really think about it. There's nothing wrong with having quite the schnoz._

 

“Psst. Pssssst. (Y/N). (Y/N), wake up.”

 

_He isn't gonna stop, is he?_

 

“(Y/N).” Another tap to your nose. “ _(Y/N), I know you can hear me. Wake yo ass up._ ”

 

_Nope, he wasn't._

 

Groaning at the constant prodding, the irritating wake-up call was enough to stir you to full attention. Drawing a hand across your face, you rubbed at your eyes to wipe away the morning stars that crusted there.

 

“Mm.. ** _what_** _, Drew_?”

 

A devilish smile roamed across your baby brother's features, deciding to poke at the hickies that scattered across the surface of your neck to specify his reasoning.

 

“ _Aww, you developing a rash? Is it contagious?_ ” His tone held a teasing manner, with a side of humorous mocking.

 

“You're a fucking asshole. Kindly shut the fuck up.”

 

You pawed your brother's face away before pulling the heavy comforter over yourself. After what felt like months of earning points altogether, redeeming this piece of linen was a prize all itself. It kept you warm, and it encompassed you from head to toe - even moreover. Though, you did loath times when you'd return to the room and Drew would be passed out, drooling all over it like he always does. It was hard enough to earn points for laundry detergent, and conserving the best you could.

 

Seated cross-legged next to your bed, his back to your dresser as he tried to tug away your blanket.

 

“You enjoy yourself last night?” he asked after a moment, smirking. “Wait, what am I thinking? _Of course, you did._ Who wouldn't want a hairy motherfucker sucking the lips off of you like he did?”

 

“Oh. My. God,” You whined, your cheeks flushing as you were entirely grateful by the blanket covering your person. “I mean, yeah..But, like, _fuck_. Shut up, Drew.”

 

You pulled the covers off once you felt the heat in your cheeks leave, peering over to your brother as the sly grin met your focus.

 

When you started off discussing how last night went, accusing your brother for disclosing the minor details about what your hobbies were to Negan was the first thing that came to mind. The oaf managed to feign major offense as he dramatically threw his head back.  He clutched his chest like it hurt him so badly, that he thought you were going to feel sorry for him. _Not really._ _You weren't going to give him the satisfaction_. _Fucking little shit._

 

After a good half hour of intel, your brother was the first to gather his bathroom necessities so he could get to his shift at the armory. As for yourself, it was kitchen duty.

 

 _More like stocking the pantry up before an inventory check._ _Negan was probably going to send David or some asshole to check up on it, so getting an early start would be better than nothing._

 

“Oh. Morning, Negan.”

 

“Drew! Good to see ya, son. How are you doing this _fine_ morning?”

 

The familiar voice caught your attention, tilting your head to the side like a curious pup as you saw a booted foot over the threshold of your room.

 

“Uhh..fine, I guess? Was gonna take a shower, so..If you don't mind, I'd like to,” Drew referred to Negan blocking his way as he had a change of clothes in one arm, the other carrying what he needed to freshen himself up for the day.

 

“Oh! Yeah, sure, kid.” Negan stepped to the side, Drew giving him a look of uncertainty before he shifted his attention to you.

 

“You good?”

 

“Yeah, I'll be fine,” you said. You felt loose strands of your hair tickling your ear, reaching up to pull out the scrunchy that held the thick bundle to retie it once more.

 

“You heard the lady, she'll be _fine_.” The man didn't even bother to ask for permission from the two of you, _not like he really needed to,_ as he strolled into your room with his hands in his pockets. He was wearing his usual leather jacket, a white crew neck underneath, pair of grey cargo pants that defined his legs, and a pair of black boots secured to his feet.

 

He took a gander at the two beds set adjacent to one another by the ends before sweeping the rest of the room.

 

“I, uh..I'll be back,” said Drew, his eyes wavering on the two of you before shutting the door behind him, taking his leave to the community bathrooms.

 

“Sure, Arnold. Whatever you say.” The reference made you chuckle, which drew Negan's tawny gaze to you.

 

“What are you laughing at, sweetheart? You laughing at me?” he quipped playfully.

 

“For shame, man. For utter fucking shame.” You shook your head, a string of chuckles slipping from you.

 

With your mattresses on the floor, it was rather easy to fall onto the bed without any excessive movements. Falling face flat onto the bedding was the norm in this room. No shame in it, really.

 

He took his sweet-ass time getting your bed, which wasn't truly a large gap. One foot in front of you would lead you to Drew's side, and vice versa. It wasn't like the rooms that were made to hold a large occupancy of three or more, but it was enough for you and your brother to house your necessities and luxuries.

 

Stopping at your dresser, he noted the several knick knacks and memorabilia that laid on the wooden surface. He picked up the Polaroid camera first, examining it from top to bottom. He looked through the viewfinder of the camera, turning to face you.

 

“Aww, hell no. Please.” You pulled the covers back over your head, burying yourself into your pillows.

 

“Aww, come on, sweetheart. Don't be like that. Show daddy his favorite smile.” he pulled the camera away from his face, reaching a hand down to grip the end of the blanket as he forced it away from you. The linen found itself on Drew's bed, to your misfortune, leaving you in your sleeper shorts and one of Drew's t-shirts.

 

_The fact that you're still trying to hide yourself - Jesus fucking Christ, pull that pillow off your head - is fucking amusing._

 

The man got down on one knee, peering through the viewfinder once more as he tried leveling your body with the frame. You didn't dare remove the pillow from your disheveled hair, clearly adamant in remaining anonymous if he decided to take a photo.

 

“You really not gonna show your pretty face, sweetheart?” he asked.

 

“I ain't pretty..not right now, at least. Can't you imagine it yourself, for right now? Please?”

 

“Imagine it?” he set the camera back onto the dresser, soon climbing on top of you as you felt the weight of him lean up against your stout form. “Why should I imagine it when I can see the real deal up close and personal?”

 

Your grip on the pillow had tightened, though the man didn't have a problem pulling it out of your grasp without any resistance. You weren't wearing your glasses, so all you saw of Negan was the most opaque version of him. Unless he moved in right up to your face, which he most certainly did.

 

At this point, you could now see the evident dimples on the man's face, smiling that toothy grin you _hated_ so much. You saw the hues of brown in his eyes vary, as sunlight spilled into the room from the awning windows that aligned the wall on the left of you. And you definitely saw the unfurling emotion of _love_ in his eyes, that it even made your chest clench at the thought

 

He managed to turn you on your side so that you were laying on your back, his hands boxing you you to prevent you from moving. He even pinned your hips with his own, grinning.

 

“Hi there, beautiful.”

 

You chuckled, smiling back at him. “Hi.”

 

As far as you could make out, he was examining your features before staring down at you.

 

“So, can you really not see me clearly? Am I like a blob to you or something?”

 

“No. I saw your dimples and the color in your eyes when you got, like, real close up. I'm nearsighted - not farsighted.”

 

He hummed in response, wiggling his eyebrows before leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. “Well, someone's got chapped lips this morning.”

 

“Well, you _did_ just barge right in. I didn't have time to apply any chapstick or some shit. So, that's your own damn fault. Should've expected it. Even have the dragon breath, so you might wanna refrain from anymore kisses. Just in case you get offended.”

 

He shrugged, leaning in to recapture your lips. “I can deal with it. Not complaining,” he said, tugging your lower lip between his teeth.

 

“Mhmm. Sure.”

 

The two of you continued kissing one another, your hands reaching up to card your fingers through the gelled, black locks. His hands found purchase on your hips, soon cupping the curve of your ass when he had the chance. With a leg between your thighs, he gyrated himself against you as a moan left your lips without haste. Your hands gripped his hair, bringing him deeper as a primal growl followed suit. He would have to slick his hair back again if he kept this up.

 

However, he did stop when _something_ caught his eye. More like a couple of them, to be exact.

 

Breathing heavily, his attention was brought to the photos taped to the hawk and trowel wall behind you.

 

“Hey, what's-what's wrong? You okay?” You asked, breathless as you loosened your grip on his hair.

 

He nodded, his focus remaining on the photos.

 

“Hmm?” You followed his eyes to the photos above your bed, now piecing things together as you dropped your hands down onto your stomach.

 

“Is that..is that Saul?”

 

You nodded. The man came to a sitting position in front of you, with you following his lead.

 

“Wow..he's fucking ugly, man. What a mug on that fucker.” You could tell there was an ounce of jealousy in his voice, but the way he showed it, he was putting up a humorous front that you knew you'd have to slip past.

 

“Hey, chill out. He was handsome. Just like you.” You poked Negan in the chest, leaning up against the bare side of your wall.

 

You were saving that portion for more photos, which you haven't had time to take as many as you could. You were running out of film, and there was no way there would be any instant film left that wasn't exposed to the elements. It was a slim chance, but you hoped you would find some. Or another polaroid camera. Whichever came first, to be honest.

 

You looked back at the photo that Negan saw first, committing it to memory like you have for the past two years.

 

In that photograph, it was just you and Saul. The photo was taken during the day, the two of you were on a date of some sort. Probably at the carnival, by the looks of the memorable ferris wheel and concession stands in the background.

 

Though, in that photo, you were smiling. You were both smiling. The depiction of Saul wasn't what Negan imagined. If Negan was honest with himself, he would've imagined someone that looked like a typical drug dealer. From what you mentioned about your parents and Saul working the same cartel, Negan had his reasoning. He thought Saul to be a shady motherfucker, tattoo sleeves on both of his arms, and even some piercings on his face. But, that wasn't what he saw in the photo. He was definitely wrong about that. At least the piercings part.

 

Saul had brown hair that came down to his mid-neckline, locks straying out to reveal the thickness and length in full view. Negan could only see the bare minimum of a tattoo on the left side of the man's neck before glancing towards you.

 

“How old was he, here?”

 

“He must've been..forty-two? I wanna say? I know I was like, sixteen, or some shit in the photo. I think.”

 

 _Negan is giving you that_ **_look_** _. Like,_ _~~I hope you understand that you were underage and your past relationship with that man was fucking illegal~~_ _, sort of_ **_look_** _._

 

“Oh, don't give me that look. I told you, I didn't care. We were in love, and age was just a number.”

 

_Sure, kid. Not everyone swings that way. Not everyone is as accepting as you are. Then again, no one is as sick as you are._

 

_Okay, you might wanna rethink that before you break the fourth wall, here._

 

“Besides, the past is the past, Negan. I was stupid in love with a man who protected me. Or, tried to, at least.”

 

In that point in time, Clark was a very apparent figure in your life. The things he did, the dignity he stole, _the lives he took_. He still scares you til this day, and he will continue until you know he's dead. But, how would you know?

 

You cleared your throat, deciding it would be best to change the subject altogether. You pointed a finger to the photo beside that one to show a solo candid of Luna.

 

Negan had tensed up when you didn't press further, his eyes returning to the next photo you showed. His spirit was lifted, a soft smile crawling across his face.

 

“Wow, a beautiful, little angel. Goddamn.”

 

Like you, her hair was dark, save for the eyes that gave the strong impression of her father. In her arms, she hugged a skeleton-themed Domo, smiling that resembled so much of you and Saul. She was a good combination of you and Saul, which pained you, as of currently.

 

You moved onto the next photo, which was a group photo.

 

“That one Jess?” he pointed to the girl with an arm hooked around your neck, her lips on your cheek. As short as you were, you thought everything and everyone was just tall in general. And Jess _was_ tall.

 

At 5’8”, the dark skinned girl stood in between you and Drew, with Saul flanking your other side as Luna sat on his shoulders.

 

Negan couldn't help himself when he asked the next question.

 

“Was she adopted or something? I'm sorry, but I can't imagine _her_ being your legitimate sister. Unless your old man went up and fucked another woman, and Jess came outta the oven.”

 

“No, you dingbat. I..” You paused, taking a moment to recollect the time you found Jess.

 

 _Now, that shit really brings you back - like,_ **_way_ ** _back._

 

_She was four years old when you found her that day. There was a downpour, so the streets of Camden, NJ, was a day filled with umbrellas of various colors and galoshes on people's feet. The rain came in heavy waves, which was troublesome for the kids heading home after school._

 

“She was four years old when I found her. She was sitting on one of the benches at the bus stop.”

 

_You were around eight years old, then. Walking home from school, hand in hand with Saul. The man had finished his shift for the day at an undisclosed warehouse downtown, finding comfort in your company than the usual crackheads that came by with a wad cash._

 

_“Can't we go bowling, Saul? I don't wanna go home.”_

 

_“I gotta get ya home, sweetheart. Your parents are making dinner, tonight.” He began tugging you along, holding up a blue umbrella up for the both of you to shield yourselves from the constant assault of the weather._

 

_“Yeah. Sure. Ma burns fucking water, and dad just lives off of the food his other ladies cooking. The both of them making dinner tonight sounds like a damn disaster.”_

 

_“Hey, language. What'd I tell you?”_

 

 _“It's just_ **_you_** _, Saul. Not like you're going to tell ma and pop.”_

 

_Saul chuckled lightly, nodding off. “You're right, you're right.”_

 

_The two of you continued walking for a bit longer, almost reaching the corner to get to your street, which was a dead-end with three garages and fenced in homes. You stopped about halfway, clearly confused by a four year old all by herself, a backpack one side of her, and a dog plush on the other._

 

_An elderly woman was speaking to the child, who looked up to her with innocence that wasn't fit for this part of town. The youth didn't seem frightened, nor concerned for own well-being. However, you couldn't help but feel the fear that pooled in your belly. She was Drew's age and she was all by herself, which scared you the most._

 

_“Saul? Isn't that--” You pointed to the young girl, frowning._

 

_Saul followed your gesture, nodding. His jaw flexed, his grip on your hand tightening slightly._

  
_That day was the start of horrors that even reality couldn't fathom._

 

 

_It was like the start of the end._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayy, vavs!
> 
> Hope this one brings things together. Please let me know if there is any confusion concerning the plot, and I'll gladly specificy (:
> 
>  
> 
> And, I hope y'all don't think this is getting to the turning point just yet, *Billy May's voice* _but, wait, there's more!_
> 
> But, as always, stay gold ❤️


	27. That's gotta hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, lovies!
> 
> My sincerest apologies for being M.I.A. But, huzzah! I'm here :3
> 
>  
> 
> _(tbh I was actually playing the Banned Footage DLC for RE7 the entire time, so lmao rip me)_
> 
>  
> 
> Anywho, off you go!
> 
>  
> 
> _Ooh, but also,[this](https://youtu.be/vrXpFh2IHZY) is the song the reader is singing; It's painful lmao_

“So, basically, what you're saying is that your hubby kidnapped a kid off the streets. That's sort of creepy, don't you think?” He guffawed at the thought, shaking his head. “Didn't Jess have parents of her own?”

 

After your recollection down memory lane, it wasn't a surprise for Negan to asking all sorts of questions. The man lounged on your bed like he damn-well owned it. Hands cupped behind his head, legs crossed at the ankles.

 

When you got down to explaining things, you hadn't realized what time it was. You had a good hour or so before your shift, so you took the time to get ready. Being late to load shit up into the pantry wasn't how you wanted to start the week off. You _do_ still want to earn points.

 

Negan's offered you countless times that you didn't have to work for points; that he'll _give you whatever you fucking want_ \- _his words, not yours_ \- at no cost. But, you've been doing it this long, so why stop now? Besides, lounging around, doing nothing wasn't really your forte - not that there's anything wrong with the idea. You just really preferred to work for what you want.

 

Then again, Negan wouldn't hesitate to treat you to shit, whether you asked him or not. He made that _perfectly_ clear last night.

 

“(Y/N)? You listening to me?”

 

“What? Oh, yeah.” He had asked about Jess’ parents. Whether you wanted to disclose _that_ information was entirely up to you. “Yeah, her parents..well, her _father_ was Clark.”

 

There was a moment of silence that was casted through the air, before the bed creaked upon Negan shifting.

 

“...are you fucking serious?”

 

“Wish I was. It was a.. _very_ difficult childhood, as I've said.” You stood at your dresser with your back to the man, clad in one of your last pairs of denim shorts and a floral print sweatshirt you snagged at an empty thrift shop. You made a mental note to do the laundry once your shift was up, just so you don't have to do it on the day that almost _everyone_ at Sanctuary does it.

 

Sifting through your top drawer for a pair of socks, you continued, uttering, “Like..Clark didn't care about Jess. Not one bit.” You looked back at Negan, his gaze intent on you. “He thought she was just another kid that popped out of the oven from one of his _many_ women. And believe me, he had _plenty_.”

 

Negan's brows furrowed in dismay, clearly baffled. Anyone who had the audacity to not care for a kid was just a _shit parent_ to begin with. If anything, if Vinny wasn't his son, he would've done the exact same thing as Saul, and reeled the boy in.

 

“Man..” Negan shook his head, still in utter shock. “Fuck that guy.”

 

“Likewise, man likewise. And..on that day,” you paused to pluck a pair of socks that clearly didn't match, but you could care less before sitting on the end of the bed to slip the pair onto your feet. “Things were..different. Like, as we were growing, my parents were just..Well, fucking shit parents. They didn't raise us at all. They couldn't even do shit to raise me. _They were never fucking_ ** _there_**. Saul had to be the one to step in. Did a helluva better job than my parents ever could.

 

Since my dad was one of Clark's best falcons, hardly ever saw him. All the birthdays, all that shit - they were never there for ‘em. Mom would be jacked up on coke and fucking immobile for the rest of the day, dad would be out with some other woman from Clark's chain. It was just..” You couldn't suppress the dry laugh that escaped you, gnawing on your bottom lip.

 

You felt the bed shift again, Negan's legs stretched out next to yours as he sat next to you. He scooted closer to you, enough that he was right up against you as he snaked an arm around your waist. “Well...I'm sorry you had to go through a fucking shitty-ass childhood. No one should have had to go through that.”

 

The embrace was comforting, your arm draping over his own as you laced your fingers with his. “Ehh..shit happens, I guess. But..see, when you have to grow up, especially in that type family...Like, I remember the day when..man..sorry, my hands are clammy.”

 

_All this shit, going down memory lane is putting you in some sort of emotional squeeze, isn't it? Hey, he's your boyfriend, and he's had plenty of chances to dump your ass to go back to his wives. But, he hasn't, so don't even try to evade his advances to get to know you better, kid._

 

As you tried to untangle your fingers from Negan's, the man only gripping your hand tighter as he pressed the pad of his thumb against your hand and caressed the surface there. “I ain't worried about it, princess. S’alright.”

 

_Yeah, you felt that, right? Your chest fluttered just ‘cause he did that. I keep telling you, you're fucking whipped. And so is he._

 

You looked up at him, his eyes brimming with sincerity.

 

_Now, if anyone had told Negan getting in a relationship with you was gonna involve a lot of pillow talk, you might have thought he would've bounced at the thought of being a shoulder to cry on. You could tell he wasn't used to it._

 

From what you gathered, even prior to you actually dating, Negan wasn't really a kiss-and-tell sort of guy to his wives. You've overheard from his top guys that he just fucks them and leaves them. It was all about a give and take sort of agreement, and he gladly lived by it - up until he met you. Then everything seemed to fall into place, if only half-assed.

 

“On..on that day, I was telling Jess and Drew to put their headphones on and play their music at the highest volume. Now, let me remind you. In that neck of the woods, no one dared to rat someone out if someone got shot. Killed, even. But, yeah..they were wondering why I wanted them to do that..well, why would I want them to be involved in shit they don't need to dig their nose in?

 

Dude..only took one bullet to kill my dad. Mom overdosed, so she was to toss out. Saul's jaw was to the floor, he couldn't believe it. But he couldn't blame me, he really couldn't. When you grow up with a fucking pervert like Clark coming to your house everyday, eyeing you up like a possible sperm bank. It was really hard to take care of Drew and Jess. That's why I was _so_ fucking grateful when Saul took us away.”

 

_But that didn't stop him, and you fucking knew it, too. Saul might have been Clark's best hitman, but that didn't mean shit._

 

“It meant I never would have to see that fucker, again. That we'd have a better chance of actually living our lives. But..it was just too good to be true.” You elicited a shaky sigh, which only tightened Negan's grip on you, pulling closer even though there wasn't much space left to get close.

 

“When Clark found us..and when he found out that _Saul_ killed my parents, the fucker thought nothing of it. In his head, it gave him an open opportunity to stake his claim on me. He thought he had a chance because I was raising his daughter like I was born to it, so his immediate thought processing was just _She's fucking mine_.

 

Yeah. _Sure._ I was preggo with Luna by then. Man, I was fucking scared. Everyday was like bomb, waiting to detonate. Every time Saul would be completing a deal, I'd think Clark would have had enough and just kill him on the spot. Days became years and..” You trailed off, playing with Negan's fingers as the man noted the change in atmosphere.

 

You felt his other hand cup your chin, turning you to face him. His eyes searched for features for any discomfort before leaning down, pressing his lips onto yours.

 

It lasted as long as he held it before breaking away, leaning his forehead against yours.

 

“He'd be very proud of you. Saul, I mean. You turned out to be one of the most beautiful and most badass gal I've ever met in my life. You're a sure contender to Lucille, and my girl was a tough cookie.”

 

The two of you laughed at that. It definitely cured the mood, which _was_ laced with a tinge of sorrow. Negan surely made the morning a better one.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Before you knew it, you were already loading up the last few boxes that were stashed on top of the platform trucks near the receiving doors.

 

You had brought your headphones along, for the sake of balancing your sanity since you preferred it that way. A day without music was the day you'd really catch yourself talking to - well, yourself. More so than not. Which wasn't really a bad thing, but plenty of people wouldn't hold a conversation with you for longer than a minute.

 

Long story short, the dinner bell had come and went, and the kitchen was closed for the night. But you still managed to find yourself working.

 

One of the boxes came undone at the top by one quick slice of a boxcutter, revealing several different packets of pasta side dishes and then some. Whoever had these in their inventory was, undoubtedly, going to miss them.

 

As you were unpacking, a familiar song filled the pantry since there was no one else to badger you to _turn that shit off_. You sung along with the lyrics, your focus faltering slightly at comforting tune.

 

“Someday,  we will foresee obstacles. Through the blizzard, through the blizzard. Today, we will sell our uniform. Live together, live together.”

 

The song itself relaxed you, even making you a bit tired. You were at it for a good nine hours. Of course, you just couldn't _not_ help the kitchen crew today, so you were doing half and half. Half serving, half stocking. A job well done, to be honest.

 

“Hey, shouldn't you be done already? It's been a good portion of the day, and you're still not fucking done,” said a voice from the doorframe of the pantry.

 

“Well, I would've been done. But the kitchen needed servers. So,” you stood up from your crouched position on the floor, placing the last box of cake mix next to the evaporated milk as you strode over to the person blocking the way. “If you moved yourself a good foot this way.” You moved them backward, their movement obliging you. “And then this way.” You moved them to the left, heading over to grab the last box to unpack. "I'd be done."

 

The person chuckled, their arms having wrapped around your waist once you picked up the box. “I bet I can make you finish your job faster. What do you say, gorgeous?”

 

Their hands began snaking down the front of your shorts, tugging on the zipper of your fly. 

 

“Whoa, whoa, **whoa.** Hold up there, Speedy Gonzales.” You set the box down abruptly, careless to whether there was any glass perishables in the box. The guy had no right to touch you, so you made the strongest attempt to shove him back. Only for him to not budge, regardless of your action. “First of all, I have a boyfriend. So, you might wanna back the fuck off. He likes to take some nightly strolls. If he finds you with your hands on me, you're gonna wish you didn't touch me.”

 

The person - _man_ , for further specifications - grinned deviously, clearly adamant on making things go his way. “Really, now? What's his name? Bet you he's a fucking _pussy._ ”

 

“Oh, I'd _beg_ to differ. Besides, calling Negan a pussy might land you on the receiving end of Lucille. And she's one for some direct attention, if you keep fucking--Hey, stop it! I said **_don't you fucking touch me_**!” You batted the man's away, as he had tried to cop a feel between your thighs.

 

“Oh, it's _Negan_ , is it? Well, that fucker really shouldn't be leaving his girl alone - in the dark. Someone might just jump ya. Come on, now, sweetheart. Let a **_real_**  man show you how good you should feel.”

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF ME! DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!" You tried to throw a blow to the man, only for him to catch your arm in a quick second.

"Oh, don't be like that. I know you want this just as much as I do. Besides, I thought older men was your style, (Y/N). Just fucking give in to me."

In swift movements, the man shoved you up against the nearest wall, your head knocking against the hard structure.

  
  
  
  
_That really had to hurt._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeez, who the fuck's the perv?
> 
> As always, stay gold y'all ❤️❤️


	28. Some T.L.C. - Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, lovies!
> 
> Now, I wanna send my deepest and sincerest apologies to all of you who have been on this journey with me, as I've been absent throughout the majority of this.
> 
> If I'm honest, I've been working a shitton of shifts, got my wisdom teeth out in the process this past Friday, so it's been rough lol. As I'm still recovering, I thought it would be hella rad to post this up so I can get this show on the road, again.
> 
> Nevertheless, I do apologize once more for being M.I.A., but I have been watching the episodes for TWD every Sunday, so I've been keeping up with _something_ lmao.
> 
> Overall, I hope this one will help plan out my next update, so bear with me! Anyways, onward you go!

“ _Jesus_ **_fuck_**..” You rubbed the tender spot at the back of your head, wincing slightly. You glared at the culprit, who had you pinned against the wall as you felt the him begin to shift. To your dismay, he was howling with laughter.

 

“ ** _NEGAN_**.”

 

“Fu-fu-fu-huck!” Negan hugged his torso, eyes squeezed tightly as he continued laughing.

 

_Yep, he was wheezing. He literally found your misfortune pretty fucking hilarious. That's the kind of love you need in your life, sweetheart._

 

“You fuck, that hurt!” You shoved him a little; not enough to do damage, but enough to make him jostle a bit. “If you're gonna do foreplay, avoid giving your partner a concussion!”

 

His laughter slowly died out, even wiping a tear from his eye from the amusement.

 

“Oh, Jesus. Come on, princess! You're being over-dramatic. It's not like I _meant_ to do that. You did say you wanted it rough, so I was giving you rough!”

 

_Sure, rough being he almost knocked you the fuck out. That would have really ended the night without a hitch. How considerate_.

 

A deadpanned expression colored your features, starting to head over to the box you were going to bring back into the pantry.

 

You shot a glare over your shoulder to prove how serious you were about _almost_ receiving some brain damage, turning to evade him.

 

Just as you were about to cross the threshold of the pantry, you felt his arm pull you flush against his lean person, pressing his lips to your hair.

 

_You just had to be overly sensitive, didn't you? Or, are you just letting him beat around the bush before he can get in your pants? Because it's been, what? A month?_

 

_Well, if you wanna start off with the first night he cornered you in the stall as the starting point of your relationship, then it's been a month. If not, it's been two weeks. Maybe three. I've lost track, to be honest._

 

“Come on, darling. I'm sorry. What can I say? I'm a rough lover, and you know it. But I can show you my softer side. You gonna let me try again?” he let his last few words float in the air, his arm unrelenting around your waist.

 

You thought for a moment, contemplating whether to take up the man's offer.

 

Though, you seemed pretty adamant about the digression. More for your better judgement.

 

“I think the heartbeat in my head speaks for itself that I am **not** in the mood anymore.” Wholehearted and filled with humor, you managed to slip from his grasp to return to the pantry to unpack.

 

“Besides, one of your boys is gonna badger me about how I didn't finish loading up the rest of the inventory into the pantry.”

 

He scoffed, leaning on the doorframe with his arms tucked against his chest.

 

“Babe, come the fuck on. I told you, you don't gotta do this shit.” He gestured towards the now empty vegetable crates that held eleven cantaloupes, which were now stocked in one of the shelves outside of the pantry. Easier access, as said by Margaux. And she wasn't wrong about that, considering how many requests of the sweet fruit was made by the residents in Sanctuary once the fruit made its appearance.

 

“I know that, but I'm easily bored. And I want to bide my time with something worth doing.” You slipped a package of brown rice next to the rest of the according grains in their boxes and jars.

“Worth _doing_?” You seemed to pique the man's interests just by the sound of his voice; without even turning back towards him.

 

_Here we_ **_go_** _._

 

“Now, _baby girl. Baby_ **_doll_** _._ ”

 

You heard his heavy boots shuffling into the pantry, his arms returning to your waist as graced you to your feet, pressing his lips against your ear. “ _Darling. Princess. Sweetheart._ ”

 

The shiver that ran down your spine brought you deeper into his embrace, a deep, hearty chuckle escaping him. He sounded almost devilish, even; wanting nothing more than to make you come undone.

 

“If you were looking for something worth _doing_ , then let me be of assistance, baby doll. You know how well I can make a woman feel like she went to fucking heaven and hell with what my hands can do.” With every word that left his lips, his hands surely emphasized every facet he was strongly implying. The gradual slip of his hand into the front of your shorts caused your breathing to become labored and jilted.

 

“Let me take care of you, sweetheart..let me make you feel good.”

  
Now, you weren't one for subtlety. Sure, you've always wanted to be adventurous and have sex in a public area, but we all know where this is going to go.

 

_You're stringing this shit out for everyone, kiddo. I mean, everyone's at the goddamn table, waiting for dessert. And yet, here you are, holding it up like a carrot on a string just so you could savor the moment._

 

_Just fuck him already, for fuck's sake._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More to come, lovies!
> 
> But, there's a new fic in the works, too. And I still have to update _Solare >, but I hope this update wasn't too shitty! _
> 
>  
> 
> _As always, stay gold my lovies ❤️_


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